Silence Speaks Volumes
by The Lilac Elf of Lothlorien
Summary: Harry Potter is no stranger to chronic illness and it's taken a devastating toll on him. When his mother, Lily, turns out to be alive, Harry thinks it's a start to better things in life. Sadly... life has other plans. SickHarry and NiceDursleys.
1. Chapter 1

AUTHOR'S NOTES: So I'm starting another round of story rewrites beginning with this story which is based on my fic, 'Deaf, Mute, and an Owl to Boot'.

I will also be working on 'Seven Deadly Strikes' and 'The Potter Family Curse' at some point.

There are going to be some major changes between this version and the original beginning with the fact that in this rewrite, the Dursleys-and Marge-are very nice people. Except Dudley. He's still a jerk. The next change is how Lily Potter is still alive which I won't give away now. The third concerns the plot thread of Harry having throat cancer. In the original story, this kinda just came out of nowhere because I was stuck and I threw the idea in so I could keep the story going. With the rewrite, this will be relevant to the story and will have a lot more details.

x

STORY SUMMARY: Harry Potter is no stranger to chronic illness, but things get a little easier when he finds out that his mother isn't dead.

* * *

HARRY POTTER: Silence Speaks Volumes

13-year-old Harry Potter groaned as he heard his aunt, Petunia Dursley knocking on the door. When her footsteps faded off, Harry threw back the blankets and looked up at the bottom of the upper bunk bed before raising his foot and kicking hard.

"I'm awake!" said the annoyed voice of Camille Dursley. A moment or two later, Camille descended the ladder, giving her cousin a smile as she handed him his glasses. Raising her hands and signing as she spoke, she asked, "Did you need any help?"

Harry shook his head as he stood up and headed for the bedroom door. **'I'm fine, Cam. Thanks, though. Tell Aunt Petunia I'll be downstairs in a minute.'**

"You got it," Camille replied, grabbing her hearing aids off the desk and putting them in. She had lost her hearing after a nasty ear infection when she was 6 years old and while the hearing aids helped a little, she still couldn't hear properly.

On the other hand, Camille thought as she headed downstairs to breakfast, she was better off than her cousin, Harry.

Harry had been prone to throat infections ever since he was 2 years old and the constant inflammations and coughing had done irreparable damage, causing scarring on his vocal cords, leading to a permanent loss of voice.

As if that hadn't been enough, Harry had started having problems breathing at the start of the summer and as the Dursleys' family doctor hadn't yet pinpointed a cause, Dr. Walsh had opted to install a tracheostomy tube directly into Harry's windpipe.

It was only Harry's 3rd week with the tube, but he'd watched the nurses teaching his aunt and uncle how to care for the tube—cleaning and so forth—and quickly picked up the procedures.

Jerked from her reflections by someone knocking her down, Camille let out a cry of pain as she fell to the floor, looking up at her brother who laughed cruelly as he went into the dining room.

Feeling someone help her up, Cam gave her mother a reassuring smile. "It's fine," she said, shortly. "An accident."

Petunia wasn't convinced but she never knew how to deal with the rivalry between her daughter and son.

When her nephew, Harry, had been left on her front door step when he was 15 months old, Petunia'd had fantasies of a big, happy family with Vernon, Camille, Dudley, and Harry. But with Harry's throat problems and Camille going deaf, Dudley had been pushed aside—something that only seemed to make him angry and more resentful as time went on. Even with Camille and Harry having magical abilities, Dudley often bullied his cousin and sister, occasionally becoming violent towards them.

Hearing the stairs creak, Petunia looked up to see Harry coming downstairs and quickly said to Dudley, "Set the table, dear, would you?"

Dudley glared at Harry and then turned his attention to setting the table for breakfast, not saying a word to anyone.

"After breakfast, I need you to set up a camp bed in your room, Dudley," Vernon said, looking up from his newspaper. "I'm going to be picking Marge up at the train station and she'll be staying in your room for the duration of her visit."

"Why do I have to host Aunt Marge?" Dudley whined as he slumped down in his chair at the table, crossing his arms angrily.

"Because I said so," Vernon replied, frowning at his son. "Marge doesn't know about Harry being a wizard and your sister being a witch and I'd like to keep it that way."

Dudley glared at his sister and cousin and he snapped, "You freaky brats think you're so special! You'll pay for messing up my life!"

"That's enough!" Petunia shouted, angrily. "Dudley, after breakfast, you're to clean your room for Marge and set up the camp bed like your father told you to. Then I want you to help me clean up the rest of the house."

Breakfast was a quiet affair, although there was a definite tension in the air. When he'd finished eating, Dudley stormed upstairs, not even bothering to clear away his dirty dishes before he left the dining room.

' **Aunt Petunia?'** Harry said after he stood up from the table and carried his dishes to the sink. **'I'll clean up the kitchen if you want me to.'**

Petunia shook her head. "You don't have to do that, Harry. I'll take care of it."

' **I want to,'** Harry insisted. But thinking of the trach tube and how much the nurses at the hospital had emphasized keeping his airway clear, he added, **'Give me about 10 minutes to check that everything's fine with the tube.'**

Once Harry had gone upstairs, Vernon stood as well and grabbed his car keys and jacket before heading out the door.

Petunia began bustling about the living room and dining room, straightening everything she could. Harry was a good kid and part of Petunia hated that he always felt obligated to help with the chores around the house.

When Harry came back down and started cleaning up the kitchen with Camille's assistance, Petunia marveled at how quickly Harry had learned about the care and maintenance of his tracheostomy tube. But, honestly, she knew that once back at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Harry would have to take care of everything himself without help, so he'd likely wanted to make sure he knew how to handle everything.

Still, the fact that the tube was necessary at all was deeply worrisome and the Dursleys had yet to hear back from Dr. Barton Walsh about the blood tests and scans of Harry's throat done last week when he'd been in for a follow-up visit after the trach tube was placed.

So far, the favorable choices as far as a cause of Harry's breathing problems were throat irritation and inflammation or some sort of benign growth pressing against his trachea. However, without the results of the blood tests, there was no way of knowing for certain and Petunia prayed that Harry didn't have cancer or some other sort of progressive illness.

Hearing Harry and Camille finish the dishes and head upstairs, Petunia waited until she heard the bedroom door close before going over to the phone and calling the doctor's office, waiting until she heard someone pick up on the other end of the phone line. "Dr. Walsh's office. How may I help you today?"

"Yes, this is Petunia Dursley. I wanted to know if there has been news on my nephew, Harry Potter's, test results…"

* * *

Waiting at the train station, Vernon Dursley checked his watch, waiting for his older sister to arrive.

Marge was a very stern woman, yet she could also be very kind and giving. She ran a rescue center for animals in West Sussex and was always taking in stray dogs and cats as well as some of the more exotic pets such as hedgehogs, birds of prey, and reptiles.

Thinking of Harry's owl, Hedwig, Vernon smirked as he thought of his sister's reaction to such a bird as a pet.

"There you are, Vernon!"

Pulled from his thoughts, Vernon saw Marge striding briskly towards him, another woman with her who looked oddly familiar somehow. "Good trip, Marge?" Vernon asked as they retrieved the luggage.

Marge looked at her companion and then said, quietly, "Perhaps we should talk in the car. This news may come as a bit of a shock."

Curious if the two women were in a romantic relationship, Vernon just nodded and led the way out to the car, wondering what sort of news was about to be sprung on him. But before he could get behind the wheel, Marge stopped him, taking the keys. "Trust me," she assured her brother. "This is not something you can listen to while driving."

Marge got behind the wheel and Vernon got in the passenger seat while the mystery woman took the backseat. Once they had pulled out of the parking lot, she took a deep breath and said, "I should start with my name, I suppose. Lily Potter."

Vernon quickly twisted around in his seat, staring at the woman in disbelief. "You're joking," he said, scoffing.

Lily shrugged and launched into the tale of what happened Halloween night 12 years ago, surprisingly not leaving anything out when it came to talking about magic.

Vernon was shocked that Marge knew about magic but as Lily talked about ending up in West Sussex with no memory—only knowing that her husband was deceased in some sort of attack and her child was missing—she explained that eventually she started working at Marge's animal rescue center.

"Eventually I felt I could confide in Marge that I was a witch," Lily went on. "And when I started to remember Petunia, Marge said that was her sister-in-law's name. She showed me pictures of Petunia and Harry and more memories started coming back." Morosely, she added, "I still don't know how I lost my memory or how I ended up in West Sussex, but I'm hoping to fill in some of the blanks after talking to Harry. I'm sure Dumbledore or someone else has told him about what happened that night."

Vernon was quiet for a while, but as they got closer to Privet Drive, he knew he had to prepare Lily for what she would find when they got to the house. "There's something you should know about Harry…" he began.

Lily leaned forward, not sure what could possibly be wrong with her son.

* * *

Petunia finished sprinkling a pair of fat roasting chickens with salt and pepper and slid the roasting pan into the oven, setting her kitchen timer after washing her hands. Turning to a sack of potatoes, she began chopping them and dropping the pieces into a large pot of water. Once cooked to tenderness, she would rice the potatoes, adding plenty of cream, butter, salt, pepper, and finely chopped chives.

As she chopped, Petunia tried not to think of the news she'd received from Dr. Walsh.

The scans of Harry's throat had indeed shown a mass of some type pressing against his windpipe.

Harry needed a biopsy to see if the mass was cancerous.

He would need surgery to remove the mass either way, but if it was cancer then it was possible that part of Harry's trachea would need to be removed—depending on how the cancer had spread.

If it was cancer, Dr. Walsh warned, Harry would also need scans of his lungs and diaphragm in case of metastasis.

Petunia had wanted to hear that this was all a very unlikely worst-case scenario but the doctor had been blunt about the facts. And so Petunia had scheduled Harry for an appointment the following morning for the biopsy, a feeling of dread starting to settle in the pit of her stomach.

Hearing someone coming down the stairs at the same time the front door opened, Petunia tried to focus on dinner as Harry went to greet Vernon and Marge. Putting the pot of chopped potatoes and water on the stove to cook, Petunia wiped her hands on her apron and headed into the sitting room, stopping dead when she saw who had come into the house.

Harry was frozen in place, not sure if he believed his eyes. Maybe he'd stopped breathing again and he was dying, his mother here to escort him into the afterlife.

But when Lily put a hand on his shoulder, Harry reacted instinctively and hugged his mother tightly, tears falling down his cheeks as he sobbed, silently.

While Lily and Harry had a tear-filled reunion, Petunia motioned Marge and Vernon into the kitchen and, signing so as not to be over heard, she told her husband and sister-in-law about Harry's appointment the next morning and Dr. Walsh's initial prognosis.

' **But we don't know anything for certain,'** Petunia emphasized, quickly.

' **Oh, come off it, Petunia,'** Merge replied, sharply, frowning as she did so. **'The chronic sore throats were one thing, but now Harry needs the trach tube… this is clearly not something benign. I know you care about Harry and you should prepare him for the worst.'**

Trying to play mediator, Vernon glanced in the direction of the sitting room before looking at Marge and Petunia. **'We should wait until the biopsy results are in before jumping to any conclusions. We don't know that Harry's condition is anything serious so why needlessly worry the poor lad?'**

But Marge was not about to give up her stance on the subject and pressed her point. **'And how are you going to break it to Harry if it turns out he** _ **does**_ **have cancer?'**

"Harry has cancer?" Camille said aloud as she came into the kitchen immediately followed by Lily and Harry.

"Wait, how long have you known about this, Petunia?" Lily snapped, accusingly, at her sister, holding Harry close with one hand.

"Is Harry going to need surgery or chemotherapy?" Camille asked, worried, as she looked at her cousin.

"I mean, hearing about the tracheostomy was bad enough," Lily added, looking at Vernon with an accusing stare. "But you should have mentioned something about Harry having _throat cancer_!"

"We don't know anything for certain!" Petunia said, nearly shouting. Looking from Marge and Vernon to Lily, Harry, and Camille, she explained. "The scans of Harry's throat showed a mass pressing against his trachea, obstructing his airway. Harry has an appointment first thing in the morning for a biopsy."

' **I need to sit down,'** Harry said, feeling suddenly lightheaded. As he pulled out his chair and sat, he looked at Petunia and asked, **'I could really have cancer?'**

Petunia hesitated for a second, but she nodded. "If you do," she promised, flicking a glance at Lily who looked about ready to start crying again. "—we'll do whatever it takes to help you beat it."

Harry nodded, words failing him.

x

Before dinner was ready, Vernon took Marge's things upstairs to Dudley's room while Harry showed off his owl, Hedwig, to Marge and showed his mother how the trach tube worked as well as cleaning it. Since Lily didn't know sign language, Marge translated for Harry. "'I have to check and make sure there's no food or anything stuck in there'," Marge said as Harry signed. "'If I don't, I can't breathe properly or mucus could get into my lungs and I could end up getting sick'."

Lily watched as Harry finished cleaning out his tube and hated the fact that she couldn't stop staring at the thing. "So… what happened, exactly?" Lily asked, as the trio started heading downstairs.

"Yes, I think I'd like to know as well," Marge added, looking at Harry.

Harry sat down at the kitchen table with his mother and aunt and after a moment to think of the best way to start the story, he began to explain what happened 3 weeks ago.

* * *

 _3 Weeks Ago…_

 _Harry hadn't even been home from Hogwarts a week and already he could feel the discomfort in his throat. Sighing as he headed down the stairs, he knew he needed to tell his aunt and uncle. Of course, then he'd be dragged over to the doctor's office and given another round of antibiotics which would help clear things up until the next infection hit._

 _Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, Harry felt incredibly lightheaded and he although he was breathing hard, he felt like he wasn't getting enough air. Sitting down on the stairs to keep from passing out, he tried to swallow but even that was difficult._

" _Out of my way, freak!" Dudley snapped as he shoved his way past his cousin and headed towards the kitchen table for breakfast._

 _Vernon looked over at the stairs where Harry was and instantly jumped to his feet, alarmed when he saw Harry nearly passed out on the steps. "Petunia, hurry!" Vernon shouted, grabbing his car keys and picking Harry up. "Harry's not breathing!"_

"What?!" _Petunia exclaimed, abandoning breakfast. When Dudley complained, loudly, she snapped, "Fix your own breakfast and tell Camille we took Harry to hospital!"_

 _xxxx_

 _Harry felt like he'd been run over by a truck when he awoke in a hospital room some time later._

 _On the one hand, he could breathe again… but at the same time, it felt weird as he took a breath._

 _Reaching up to rub his sore throat, Harry stopped, looking down when he felt some sort of tube protruding from his neck._

" _Oh, thank heavens you're awake!" Petunia said as she bustled over to Harry, handing him his glasses. Seeing Harry point to the tube, she sat down on the edge of the bed and explained. "You couldn't breathe. That's why you passed out. The trauma doctor couldn't intubate you because your throat was swelling up… so she had to insert a tube directly into your trachea to help you breathe."_

 _Harry didn't know what to say at first, but a question came to mind._ _ **'Is this permanent?'**_

 _Petunia shrugged, putting a comforting hand on Harry's forearm. "I don't know, Harry. It might be, if the doctors can't figure out what's wrong with you."_

' _ **Does this have anything to do with my sore throat problems?'**_ _Harry asked, trying to think what could have caused his throat to become inflamed enough that he couldn't breathe._

" _The doctors want to keep you for observation for a day or two," Petunia replied, repeating what she'd been told after Harry was admitted. "You'll have to take another course of antibiotics in case it is an infection but if the problem doesn't go away, we're to go to Dr. Walsh for blood tests and scans of your throat."_

 _Reaching a hand up to touch the tube, Harry suddenly dreaded the end of the summer when he'd return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was bad enough being unable to speak but he'd have everyone staring at the tube in his throat and a constant stream of questions…_

 _Leaning back against his pillows, Harry took a deep breath, wondering when life would start to cut him a break._

 _xxxxxxx_

 _2 Weeks Later_

 _Dr. Barton Walsh was very well liked by patients and parents alike. He, in turn, loked working with children and helping to keep them healthy._

 _That said, he wished he didn't see so much of Harry Potter. The poor boy was always trying to shake some sort of throat infection and almost 5 years ago, Walsh had had to give Harry the news that the chronic infections had caused permanent damage to his vocal cords._

 _When Harry came in with his aunt, Petunia Dursley, on a warm afternoon at the end of May, Walsh had, at first, thought that the young man was dealing with another nasty infection… until the doctor had noticed the tracheostomy tube._

 _Ushering Harry and Petunia into an examination room, Walsh donned gloves and did a cursory inspection of the tube before studying Harry's throat, inside and out. "You do seem to have some swelling," Walsh said, trained fingers gently probing Harry's neck and throat. Looking at the medical file, he noted that the initial diagnosis was swelling due to infection, but Walsh wasn't convinced._

" _What do you think it is?" Petunia asked, translating for Harry who had signed the question nervously._

 _Walsh shrugged, uncertainly. "I'm not sure, exactly. It could be a viral infection which would explain why it isn't going away with antibiotics. It could also be some sort of growth, pressing against Harry's trachea."_

' _ **A tumor?'**_ _Harry said, looking even more worried._ _ **'You mean… like cancer or something?'**_

 _When Petunia related the query, Walsh shrugged again. "That is a possibility. But don't start panicking yet. I'm going to draw a blood sample and then I want to send Harry over to the radiology department." When Harry looked puzzled, he explained. "I want some x-rays and an MRI of your neck. Between those scans and the blood work, maybe we can start figuring some things out."_

* * *

 _Present Day…_

Harry concluded the story, grateful that Aunt Marge had translated for his mother who seemed to be watching his hands as much as possible. **'Hopefully, everything will be fine and when I get back to Hogwarts I won't have this tube anymore.'** Grinning, he added, **'After my doctor's appointment tomorrow, maybe we can—'**

"Harry, honey, I can't understand—" Lily began as Harry signed something to her, looking happy about… something. When Harry paused and started to repeat whatever it was he'd said—his hand motions slower—Lily shook her head and said, "I don't know what you're saying."

Harry froze, hands in mid-sign and he looked down, realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. His mother didn't know sign language. If they did something together, he'd have to have someone with them to translate. Tears started welling up in his eyes and he stood, looking at Marge. **'Tell Aunt Petunia I'm not hungry.'**

When Harry hurried out of the room and back upstairs, Lily turned to Marge, not sure of what had just happened. "Wh-what did I say?"

Marge knew that the reunion of mother and son wouldn't be an easy one, but in her eagerness to bring Lily back into Harry's life, she'd somehow managed to overlook the most important factor—that Harry couldn't speak and Lily didn't know sign language.

"Harry has had chronic sore throats since he was 2 years old," Marge explained, calmly. "The repeat infections caused scarring on his vocal cords and as a result, Harry hasn't been able to speak since he was 8."

Lily sighed as she understood why Harry was so upset. "That's why he's using sign language. I-I just thought it was because of the tube… Earlier, in the sitting room, I just went on about how much I loved him and missed him… how he looks like his father… And he never said a word… because he couldn't. Harry uses a completely different language a-and I have no idea what he's saying."

Marge nodded in confirmation but when Lily seemed to start moping even more, she put a hand on her friend's forearm. "But you'll learn."

Lily gave a nod in return and straightened up, not about to let a language barrier come between her and her son.

* * *

A/N: Next chapter, Harry gets some... 'sort of' good news, Lily learns to sign, and Dudley gets some really bad news.


	2. Chapter 2

AUTHOR'S NOTES: So this isn't going to be your typical 'Harry finds out his parents are alive and immediately goes to live with them' story. Since the Dursleys are good people, Harry is going to be staying with them for the moment, while he gets to know his mother again.

* * *

CHAPTER 2

When dinner was finished, Marge looked from Vernon and Petunia to Dudley. "So I hear you've been bullying your sister and cousin, Dudley."

Dudley crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, rolling his eyes as he anticipated yet another lecture on being nicer to Camille and Harry because of their disabilities, or magical abilities, or blah, blah, blah…

"Since Lily is going to be finding a place nearby so she can be closer to Harry," Marge said, her tone firm. "—I'm going to need some extra help at the rescue center. So when I go back to West Sussex, you are going to be coming with me. You'll help out with the animals and cleaning up around the place."

Dudley looked from his aunt to his parents. "You're not seriously shipping me off to the middle of nowhere, are you?" he shouted, angrily. "How could you do this to me?"

"You've given us little choice," Vernon replied, sternly. "You've been abusive to Harry and Camille, you've been belligerent and incredibly disrespectful to your mother and I. And your mother found the school reports you hid in your bedroom documenting your bullying other students at school."

Petunia fixed her son with a look and added, "I've been too lenient with you, Dudley. You'll live with Marge for a year. If that doesn't work… then we will be sending you to military school."

Dudley felt like he was being ganged up on and he thought quickly. "So I'm skipping school this year, is that it? You're just putting me to work instead?"

"There's that farm and outdoor school that just opened up half an hour away from the center," Lilly offered, looking at Marge. Looking at Petunia and Vernon, she explained. "The students learn to work outdoors—building, farming, and the like—as well as mathematics, grammar, literature, science, and such. Dudley can go there when the school year starts."

"What if I don't want to do this?" Dudley said, stubbornly. "What if I refuse?"

Vernon wasn't about to give in on the subject and he shook his head, firmly. "You've never tried to be nicer to your sister and cousin," he replied. "And now you say you're going to start? Dudley, you are my son, and I love you… but with Harry's health issues and Camille's disability, this is the best option. Maybe learning to care for others will help you see how much you've been hurting your family."

Seeing that Camille wanted to say something, Lily looked from her to Dudley and said, "I think you sister has something she wants to say to you."

Dudley sneered a bit as he rolled his eyes, not sure what his sister could possibly say that was of any importance.

Camille took a deep breath and raised her hands to sign as she spoke. "You never bothered to learn how to sign when I went deaf. You never bother to face me when you talk so I can read your lips. You shove me out of the way like you're the only person in this house who matters." Tears began to well up in her eyes as she went on, avoiding looking at her parents as she said, "Last year, you beat me up for no reason and when I went to school, my teachers wanted to call child services. They thought my parents were abusing me! Do you have _any_ idea how humiliating it was to have social workers asking about everything in my life? Not to mention Mum and Dad! Dad almost lost his job because of being questioned by child services investigators!"

Dudley looked surprised at this information and he looked from his sister to his parents, both of whom had accusing expressions. "No one told me about that."

"Because we didn't want the police to take you away to prison," Petunia replied, sadly. "They wanted to arrest you for assault. Vernon and I made excuses, we said…" Scoffing lightly, she shook her head. "It doesn't really matter what we said, because it was probably the same excuses we've been making for you for years."

"Well, no more excuses," Vernon concluded, his tone bordering on harsh. "Dudley, I don't know why you're like this. Heaven knows your mother and I never raised you this way. But you need help. You need to start learning respect and consideration for others and not always putting your own feelings first."

"So why are you telling me all this now?" Dudley asked, feeling ganged up on. "Why not just wait until Aunt Marge was leaving to spring this on me?

"Because this is your last chance," Vernon replied, firmly. "If you can start doing better, we'll consider only having you stay with Marge for the duration of your summer holiday."

Giving Dudley the smallest of breaks, Lily said, "Dudley, maybe you should help clear the table." Standing, she looked at Petunia. "I'm going to take a plate up to Harry." Hesitating a moment before turning to go to the kitchen, she asked, "Can you help me with something first?"

x

Harry had just finished his essay for Transfiguration when he heard a knock at the door. Looking up, he saw his mother coming in holding a plate of food and a bottle of juice. Clearing a spot on the desk, he smiled as Lily set the plate down. 'Thank you,' he mouthed.

Lily raised her hands and, hoping she remembered everything right, started signing as she spoke. "I love you so much, Harry. I'm sorry I hurt your feelings before. I'm going to learn to sign."

Harry smiled as he stood and hugged his mother. Signing back as he mouthed the words, he said, **'I love you, too, Mum. Thank you. This means a lot to me. Camille, too.'**

"Just take it easy on me," Lily warned. "I'm a beginner."

Harry nodded in agreement, turning his attention to his dinner, as Lily filled him in what was going on with Dudley. To be honest, Harry hadn't been surprised. He'd heard his aunt and uncle talking about sending Dudley…somewhere, but no plans had actually been made last he'd heard. A thought suddenly popping into his head, Harry asked, **'How long are you staying? Am I living with you now?'**

Lily hesitated, not sure what to say. "Er… I don't know, right now, honey," she replied, truthfully. "I want you to live with me, of course, but you seem to have a good life with Petunia and Vernon. If you don't want to move in with me right away, I'd understand."

Harry ate as he thought about how to respond to his mother. Honestly, at first, he had thought of just going to live with her, but the truth was… he didn't really know his mother. **'Let's take it one day at a time,'** he signed, mouthing his words as he kept his signing clear.

x

Going downstairs a little while later, Lily found Petunia sitting at the dining room table with a cup of tea. Sitting down opposite her sister, Lily said, "I have to admit… part of me is surprised you've been so good to Harry." When Petunia looked surprised, Lily explained. "Because of the last time we saw each other… and the whole magic thing… I mean, no offense, but you would have been my last choice to take care of Harry."

Petunia fiddled with her teacup to avoid looking at her sister, but when she did finally look up, there was a deep-seated look of regret. "I hate that we didn't talk for so long. I hate that I let my anger and jealousy keep us from being family." Standing and going to the kitchen to prepare another cup of tea for Lily, Petunia added, "I was still angry that night when Albus Dumbledore brought Harry to my doorstep. I didn't want him."

Setting the cup in front of Lily, Petunia sat down again and continued. "But as I looked at Harry, I saw what was left of my family. And I also realized that—had our circumstances been reversed—you would have welcomed my children with open arms. How could I do any less with yours?"

Sipping her tea, a question loomed in Lily's mind and as much as she didn't want to face it, she knew she had to. "What's going to happen with Harry's biopsy tomorrow?"

Petunia let out a deep breath before finishing her tea in one go. "Because of the placement of the tumor, Harry's going to have to be admitted to the hospital so the doctors can do the biopsy and figure out the best way to remove the mass."

"And then?" Lily wanted to know.

Shrugging uncertainly, Petunia again fiddled with her teacup. "If the tumor is benign, then Harry can get the trach tube removed in a few weeks and go back to being the happy child he was before." Letting out another long sigh, she added, "If Harry does have cancer, Dr. Walsh said Harry's going to need scans of his chest as well. Apparently, throat cancer can spread to the lungs."

Nodding, Lily tried to imagine what would come afterwards. Harry would need treatment of some sort—chemotherapy or radiation. Reaching out and putting her hands on her sister's, Lily gave Petunia a reassuring smile. "Harry's going to be fine." When Petunia looked doubtful about the promise, Lily added, "I just got my son back. I'm not about to lose him again so soon. Not if I can help it."

* * *

The next morning, Petunia, Lily, Harry, and Camille headed to the local hospital, stopping at the admittance desk near the front door.

"My nephew was referred here by Dr. Walsh," Petunia said to the receptionist—a woman named Claire—who pulled up Harry's file on the computer.

"Okay," Claire said after a moment. "You're going to need to go upstairs to Radiology. Dr. Marcus Vincent will meet you there and he'll be taking care of the biopsy."

The group headed upstairs, Harry feeling more and more nervous as they got off the elevator and headed left, following the directions to Radiology.

When they got to the nurses' station, they found Dr. Vincent standing by the desk, holding a file.

"You must be Harry Potter," the doctor said, warmly, holding out a hand. When Harry shook it, Dr. Vincent gestured down the hallway to where his office was. "This way, please."

Once everyone was seated in the office, Vincent pulled out the x-rays of Harry's neck and stuck them in the light box mounted on the wall. Pointing to a spot halfway between Harry's jaw and the base of his neck, he said, "Harry's tumor is in a really tricky spot. Not only is it pressing against his trachea, but it's very, very close to his thyroid as well." Seeing that the others were a little puzzled by the new development, Vincent explained. "Thyroid cancer and throat cancer have a lot of overlap when it comes to symptoms. Seeing the worried looks from Harry and his family, he backtracked slightly. "That's the bad news. The good news is that I'm not seeing any immediate signs of metastasis which means that the tumor hasn't spread."

' **So what now?'** Harry asked, Petunia translating for him.

Dr. Vincent put the x-rays back in the file and replied, "I'm going to take you down the hall to the procedure room and I'm going to insert a needle into your throat to get a sample of the tumor." Looking at Petunia, Lily, and Camille, he went on. "The biopsy should only take about 15 minutes. I'll start running the tests as soon as I have the sample."

Petunia looked confused and asked, "I thought Harry was having the surgery to remove the tumor straight away."

"Figuring out if the tumor is benign or malignant is important to knowing how to remove it," Dr. Vincent explained. "Plus, if it's not cancer, then I don't have to schedule an oncologist to consult during the surgery."

Once Harry was led out of the office, Lily buried her face in her hands. "Oh, I think I'm going to be sick," she muttered, quietly.

"I have to say, I'm not doing any better," Petunia admitted, taking her sister's hand.

"Harry's going to be okay, right?" Camille asked, worriedly. She loved her cousin and this whole situation had her constantly on edge, wondering if everything would be alright. Part of her wanted reassurance, but another part wanted honesty. When she received no reply, Camille dashed out of the office, catching up with Harry and Dr. Vincent. Receiving some odd looks, she smiled at Harry and said, "I thought you might need an interpreter."

Harry nodded gratefully and felt just a touch better as he followed the doctor into the procedure room.

x

Working with children was both the hardest and the most rewarding.

Marcus Vincent had seen countless children come through this hospital with a myriad of illnesses and reassuring parents and loved ones never got any easier. But when a child left this building in better health than when they'd arrived, Vincent felt a sense of satisfaction and knew that he'd made a difference.

As Harry Potter lay on the examination table, fixing his gaze on his cousin, Vincent tried to take the teenager's mind off of the procedure. "So what do you want to be when you grow up?"

Harry shrugged as Vincent injected the local anesthetic into Harry's neck. **'No idea,'** Harry signed, Camille repeating the answer aloud. **'Hadn't thought about it, really.'**

Nodding in reply as he prepped the biopsy needle, Vincent smiled. "You're young, Harry. Plenty of time to think about it." When Harry pointed to him, the doctor chuckled. "Me? I wanted to be a doctor since I was 8," he replied, moving to Harry's side. Seeing Harry turning his head, Vincent said, "Look straight ahead, please. Don't move your head."

Harry stayed perfectly still as the needle went into his neck, wincing slightly as Vincent extracted a sample on the tumor and slowly withdrew the needle. "That's it, Harry," he said, setting the biopsy needle aside for a moment and letting Harry sit up. "I'm going to take this down to the lab and start running some tests. Did you want me to walk you back to my office?"

Harry signed something and Camille said, "We'll be fine. Thanks."

Vincent nodded and headed out of the room and downstairs to the hospital lab, hoping to give the poor boy some good news.

x

Harry felt like he'd been waiting for an eternity for Dr. Vincent to come back with the test results. His mother, aunt, and cousin kept up a steady string of reassurances—both regarding best and worst case scenarios—but it all was background noise, none of it really sinking in.

When the office door opened, Dr. Vincent entered, and while he wasn't smiling, he didn't look like the bearer of bad news. Still fearing the worst, Harry signed, **'What did the test show? How bad is it?'**

When Petunia repeated the question aloud, she looked worried as the doctor sat behind the desk. "Is Harry going to be alright?" she asked, quickly."

"The good news is that at the moment, the tumor does _not_ seem cancerous," Dr. Vincent replied, knowing that that was the most urgent bit of news.

"Wait, what do you mean 'at the moment'?" Lily interrupted.

The doctor paused a moment, trying to properly describe his initial findings. "The mass in Harry's throat does not resemble a malignant tumor," he explained. "But the cells were what I'd call 'borderline' or 'premalignant'. The tumor cells are currently benign, but they have the potential to become cancerous. Without further pathology, I can't give you any more information, I'm afraid." Turning to Harry's aunt and mother, he went on. "I'm going to get Harry admitted today and try and schedule the surgery for tomorrow morning."

"What about the surgery itself?" Petunia wanted to know. "Is it dangerous to Harry? I mean, what if something goes wrong?"

Dr. Vincent nodded, thoughtfully. "Benign tumors are usually very easy to remove. The surgeon will go in, remove the tumor, and we'll do more extensive tests to see just what it is. If the mass _is_ actually malignant, it will take more time to remove everything and check for signs of metastasis."

Harry nodded in understanding, trying to remain positive, but feeling a growing sense of dread in the pit of his stomach.

x

Once Harry was admitted and settled in a room in the pediatric wing, Petunia headed home to grab some of Harry's things since he would be in the hospital for at least 3 days, longer if further treatment was needed.

' **Why is it always me?'** Harry groused to Camille as a nurse took his pulse and checked his breathing, temperature, and did a blood draw.

"What do you mean?" Camille asked, slightly puzzled.

Harry waited for the nurse to leave before he replied, **'Oh, let's see… An endless string of sore throats left me mute. I have a tumor in my throat that may or may not be cancer. I'm breathing through a tube… Why do I have all the rotten luck?'**

Camille shrugged as she sat on the side of Harry's bed. "You can still hear. That should count for something."

Harry couldn't argue with that point, but still… He'd take being deaf over everything he'd been through any day. Changing the subject as something came to mind, he looked at Camille. **'I haven't told Ron and Hermione about what happened. I didn't know what to say.'**

Understanding what Harry was saying, Camille nodded, squeezing Harry's hand in a comforting manner. "I'll send a message off and let them know."

' **Ron will be freaked out,'** Harry added, thinking of his friends' reactions. **'Especially with the tube. Hermione will head straight for the library.'**

"How are _you_ feeling about all this?" Camille wanted to know, looking concerned.

Harry didn't respond right away because with everything that had happened in the past few weeks, he was feeling considerably overwhelmed. Saying as much to Camille, he added, **'Honestly, I don't know what I'm feeling about everything. I'm happy to have my mum back, scared that I could be really sick…'** After touching the trach tube again, he went on. **'I don't want the tube to be permanent, but I'm starting to think it might be. I hate not being able to speak…'**

Lily could tell that Harry was getting worked up and she went over to him, sitting on his other side and pulling him into a comforting hug. "It'll be okay, sweetheart," she soothed, rubbing Harry's back the way she'd done when he was a baby.

Harry hugged his mother and though he tried to stop himself, he started sobbing. Looking at Camille, an urgent look on his face, he signaled for her to get help. When Lily pulled away, looking panicked, Harry mouthed, 'Crying's bad. Can't breathe.'

Before Lily could say anything, Camille raced back into the room, two nurses trailing her.

"It's okay, son," one of the nurses said as she made sure Harry was sitting up. "Just breathe."

The second nurse quickly wheeled a cart over to Harry's bedside as Lily stood, going over to Camille who was looking scared as she watched the nurses suction out Harry's tube.

Once Harry could breathe again, the first nurse gave Harry a mild sedative before going over to Lily and Camille. "Harry will be out of it for a few hours. When the sedative wears off, try to keep him calm. With the trach tube, crying can lead to severe blockage and Harry won't be able to breathe."

When the nurses had gone, Camille sat down, staring at Harry, hoping that that was the worst of it, but knowing that it wasn't.

* * *

Late that night, as Lily kept a vigil in Harry's hospital room, she was surprised to see Albus Dumbledore coming into the room, his expression one of concern. "Professor," Lily said, quietly, as she stood. "I-I didn't know you were dropping by. How did you know Harry was here? Did Petunia contact you?"

"As a matter of fact," Dumbledore replied as he sat down in the chair in the corner. "—I was here on another matter. One which concerns both you and Harry."

Getting up from her own chair quickly, Lily ushered Dumbledore out of the room and closed the door. Turning to face her old headmaster, she said, quietly, "Harry's been through enough, Dumbledore. For heaven's sake, he's having surgery in the morning."

Keeping his voice down as well, Dumbledore replied, "Petunia filled me in on what's been going on with Harry. But as much as I would dearly love to leave things alone at the moment, this is a very pressing matter."

"So what's so urgent?" Lily snapped, folding her arms across her chest.

Dumbledore looked from Harry to Lily and said, "Sirius Black was accused of betraying you and James…of giving your location to Voldemort." Seeing Lily about to protest angrily, he held up a hand to ward off the verbal explosion. "I have recently learned otherwise and the Ministry of Magic has been informed. Sirius has been exonerated and he is going to be living nearby."

Although she was happy about the news, Lily still had questions and started with the first one that came out. "How did you find out about Sirius, sir?"

Looking down the hall and gesturing to someone hiding in the shadows, Dumbledore took a step back as James Potter came into view. After a moment of stunned silence between James and Lily, Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he said, "Perhaps this is a conversation best done in private."

x

In the deserted patient lounge, Dumbledore began to explain the real events of what had happened 12 years ago.

"Orgininally," he began. "Everyone believed that the two of you died the night Voldemort was defeated. But the past few years, I've heard rumors that the two of you were still alive. So I began to investigate and I found out that the whispers were true."

"But I don't remember anything, Professor," Lily said, confused. "All I recall was waking up in the middle of nowhere with no memory of anything that had happened before."

"I was the same way," James said, taking his wife's hand. "I thought you and Harry were dead."

Dumbledore looked from James to Lily as he explained. "As you may or may not know, Severus Snape was a Death Eater and he divulged information to Voldemort in exchange for… certain rewards. Severus believed that if he could save Lily, it would help mend the friendship between them. Voldemort obliged, and instead of killing the two of you, he wiped your memories and sent you to separate locations."

"But then how was Voldemort defeated that night?" Lily asked, still puzzled.

Dumbledore glanced down the hallway in the direction of Harry's room as he replied. "Lily, you sacrificed yourself to save your child. Even without your death, that act left incredibly powerful magic behind in Harry. When Voldemort tried to kill Harry, the curse rebounded, destroying Voldemort." After a moment or two to let Lily take in this information, Dumbledore turned to James. "And now, I suspect you wish to know about why your son is in the hospital."

James nodded, looking from Dumbledore to Lily. "Lily, what's wrong with our son?"

Feeling slightly annoyed that Dumbledore was putting her on the spot, Lily took a deep breath and tried to fill her husband in as best she could, talking about Harry's muteism, the tracheostomy tube, the surgery the next day…

At first James was quiet as he listened to everything and when Lily was done, he took her hands in his, praying that his reunion with his family wouldn't be short lived.

* * *

The next day was heavy with tension as Harry went into surgery—Lily believed it would be best to tell him about James and Sirius afterwards—and the Potters related the details of that fateful Halloween night to Petunia and Vernon.

Petunia seemed especially put off by something as James talked about buying a house on Privet Drive so Harry could still live near the Dursleys.

In truth, Petunia was happy for Harry… for the most part. And she supposed it would be good to have a second chance with her sister… But what was really bothering Petunia was that she didn't want to give Harry up. Over the years, he'd become as good as her own son and now he could be going away.

Glancing at Vernon, Petunia could see that he was feeling the same way, although Camille seemed excited about the prospect of having her newfound aunt and uncle living nearby.

Turning her gaze to the doors of the operating room, Petunia wondered if Harry was doing alright.

x

Once Harry was unconscious and on the ventilator, Dr. Vincent made an incision from Harry's jaw to his clavicle, carefully opening up the boy's throat. Looking at the surgeon, Dr. Gordon Reilly, Vincent nodded. "All you, Reilly."

Reilly nodded in reply, making sure the nurses were keeping the area clear of blood and the lights allowed for the best view of the surgical field. "That is a nasty tumor," he commented, as he started to carefully remove the mass. Glancing up at Vincent, he said, "We're going to need advanced pathology on this. I can't tell if this thing is benign or not."

The removal was fairly simple at first, but Reilly hesitated when he saw Harry's vocal cords. Flicking his gaze at Vincent, he asked, "What does this look like to you?"

Vincent looked closely at Harry's larynx, groaning as he saw the 'scarring'. "Ah, Hell… That's not good." Looking at his colleague, he knew the other doctor was having the same thought—should they remove the vocal cords now, to be safe, or take a sample for testing and do further surgery later on if necessary?

"Best talk to the family," Reilly concluded, as he set to work removing the rest of the main tumor.

Vincent headed out of the operating room, removing his gloves and mask as he did so.

Stepping into the waiting room, he went over to Harry's family and kept things very succinct as he described the situation. "There's a chance that the scarring on Harry's vocal cords could actually be cancer. We can either take samples now and test and do further surgery later, if necessary. Or we can go ahead and remove them now."

"Wait, remove Harry's vocal cords?" James said, looking shocked at the idea. "But how will he be able to—?"

"Harry hasn't been able to talk since he was 8 years old," Petunia cut in. She wanted to give an answer to the doctor but looked at Lily first. Still, Lily hadn't been there all these years. She didn't really know Harry—what he was like, his favorite things… Looking at the doctor and knowing he needed an answer as soon as possible, she said, "Do it."

Dr. Vincent nodded and hurried back into the operating room.

Lily looked at Petunia, eyes wide in disbelief. "I can't believe you just did that. I… I'm Harry's _mother_! That decision should have been _mine_!" she shouted, angry.

"Yes, Harry is your son," Petunia replied, curtly. "But he has been in _my_ care for the past 12 years. You don't know what it was like with Harry being sick with one sore throat after another. Now I find out that this could have been an indicator of something more serious?"

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Lily felt like screaming. When James tried to put a comforting arm around her, Lily shrugged him off as she stood, pacing angrily, her arms crossed.

"Lily… Hey." James held Lily still, waiting until she looked at him. "We will deal with this, alright? All of us. Harry is our son and that will never change. But we can't just barge in and take over as Harry's parents. It's going to take some time."

Lily didn't reply, but she knew what James was saying. Looking at the clock on the wall, she sat down again, wondering how much longer Harry's surgery would take.

* * *

A/N: While I don't wish to give away any spoilers, don't start worrying about Harry too much just yet. Yes, things look grim for him right now, but they will be getting better...before they get bad again. I've been trying to go into more detail with this story, and apparently throat cancer is an awfully nasty disease which can manifest in a lot of different ways and hide in a myriad of locations. Harry's not totally out of the woods, yet, but he's going to have his family fighting for him every step of the way.


	3. Chapter 3

AUTHOR'S NOTES: So first things first, the opening part in italics is what Harry overheard in a semi-conscious state.

Also, I actually had to rewrite part of this chapter after doing further research on Harry's surgery.

As far as James and Lily—just to backtrack a touch—Voldemort did NOT actually kill them before attempting to murder Harry. Instead, Voldemort rendered them unconscious, altered their memories, and dropped them off in the middle of nowhere believing that the other was killed along with Harry, although they did NOT remember their son's name.

Chapter 3

* * *

"— _can't believe you let your sister do that, Lily. Why didn't you say something? Stop her?"_

" _What could I have said, Sirius? Petunia is Harry's legal guardian right now so she's the one in charge of any medical decisions."_

" _I can't believe you haven't taken Harry back yet. I'd have taken him home as soon as possible."_

" _The Dursleys have been good to Harry, Padfoot. They're his family. Lily and I don't want to rip Harry away from them, especially right now."_

" _Alright, fine, I guess. But you should help Camille and Harry somehow. What about magically enhancing Camille's hearing aids? At least then she'd be able to hear normally."_

" _That's a great idea, Sirius. I'll talk to Petunia about it in the morning."_

xxxxxx

" _Any news on the pathology reports?"_

" _The tumor was benign when they removed it and it didn't appear to have spread. Harry's vocal cords had the same sort of premalignant cells, so it looks like he dodged a bullet there, too."_

" _So is Harry going to be able to get the trach tube removed soon?"_

" _Dr. Vincent wants to keep it in for at least two more weeks, to be safe. We don't want any setbacks."_

" _Petunia, be straight with me, please? Is Harry going to be okay? I mean… there's nothing else we have to worry about now, right?"_

" _He's not out of the woods yet, Lily. Dr. Walsh and Dr. Vincent want to run Harry through regular blood tests for the next three months in case something pops up."_

" _I was afraid of that."_

* * *

Harry blinked a few times as he fully regained consciousness. He tried to look around the hospital room for any sign of his family, but he couldn't move his head. Reaching up to his throat, he found a hard plastic brace around his neck and he still had the trach tube. Catching sight of a man he'd only seen in his parents' wedding picture, Harry waved at him, trying to get his attention.

The stranger nodded once at Harry before poking his head outside the hospital room and calling someone. Turning back to Harry, he smiled warmly and handed the teenager his glasses. "It's good to see you awake, finally. You've been in and out of consciousness for nearly three days."

Harry didn't know if the stranger knew sign language so he just pointed at the neck brace and mouthed, 'What's this all about?'

"The doctors were afraid you'd pull your stitches if you moved your head too much. Your throat's a right mess, you see," the man replied.

'Who are you?' Harry mouthed, wondering who this man was and why he seemed somehow familiar.

The stranger smiled as he sat on the edge of Harry's bed after helping him sit up more. "Sirius Black. I'm your dad's best friend. I'm also your godfather."

Harry sat up even more, wincing at the pain in his neck. He was about to ask another question when he saw Camille come into the room. Looking at Harry, she said, "Mum, Dad, and Aunt Lily are down the hallway. It's so good to see you awake."

' **How'd my surgery go?'** Harry signed, quickly. **'Did they get all of the tumor?'** He scrunched his face a bit as he swallowed. **'My throat feels weird.'**

Sirius looked at Camille who translated the question. He looked sad as he replied, "Your vocal cords were removed, Harry. I'm sorry."

Harry swallowed again, trying not to cry. He took a few deep breaths before signing to his cousin, **'What about using magic to restore my voice?'**

Camille was about to reply when Dr. Vincent entered the room followed by Petunia. Signing as she spoke, Camille said, "Harry wants to know when he can get out of here."

"Well, not for a couple days, at least," Dr. Vincent replied, going to Harry's bedside as Sirius stood and moved away. Carefully removing the neck brace, Vincent said, "Keep your head still, please, Harry." After gingerly probing Harry's neck, looking down his throat, and checking the trach tube, he replaced the neck brace. "Sorry about the brace, Harry, but I'm trying to keep you from tearing your stitches out."

Harry looked at Petunia who looked both nervous and relieved and asked, **'What's going on? Is something else wrong with me?'**

Glancing at the doctor, Petunia shook her head. "We can talk about it later, Harry."

' **But what about the tests on the tumor?'** Harry asked, knowing that something was up and sure that it had something to do with his surgery.

Taking a guess at the nature of Harry's question, Vincent expression and tone were of cautious optimism as he said, "As of right now, there's no sign of cancer, but given that the tumor and the cysts on your vocal cords were premalignant, I want to keep a close eye on you for a while—regular blood tests and I want a new set of x-rays and MRI scans every 30 days."

"Little extreme, isn't it?" Sirius said, surprised at the amount of tests the doctor wanted to put Harry through. "Especially if Harry's not actually sick."

Vincent understood the concern, but he also knew that cancer could be sneaky and unexpected. "The problem with premalignant cells is that, eventually, they _will_ become malignant. Now, we've removed the tumor from Harry's throat as well as his vocal cords. But if even a few of those borderline cells escaped, they could become cancerous and start multiplying. Harry could end up worse off than before the surgery."

His protective nature kicking in full force, Sirius asked, "Well, can't you do something to keep that from happening?"

"Of course," Vincent replied, nodding. "We can put Harry on a preventative course of chemotherapy. He'd be in treatment for at least 2 months and we would have to monitor him closely for signs of adverse reactions as well as the usual side effects—nausea, hair loss, weight loss, mouth sores, etc."

"I'd like to avoid putting Harry through all that, if possible," Petunia said to Sirius who seriously seemed to be considering going the more offensive route. "Harry's been through so much already."

Turning to Harry's doctor, Sirius wanted to know the worst case before giving up. "If Harry does have premalignant cells still in his body, where would they end up?"

"It's hard to say," Vincent replied, truthfully. "Best guess given where they started, somewhere in Harry's respiratory system. Basically, anywhere in his lungs, diaphragm, or even in his throat again. The problem with malignant tumors is that they can grow in deep enough that you have to remove healthy tissue to avoid further metastasis."

Given Lily's reaction when Petunia had okayed the removal of Harry's vocal cords, Petunia knew that she needed to consult her sister about the matter at hand. Besides… Harry still didn't know about James being alive and that conversation was sure to need careful planning beforehand.

While Camille stayed with Harry, Sirius and Petunia went down the hallway to the patient lounge where James, Lily, and Vernon were waiting.

"I need to see my son," James insisted, urgently.

"A fine thought," Vernon said, his tone slightly sarcastic. "Except Harry believes you to be dead."

"According to you lot," James replied, frowning. "—Harry took the news that Lily was alive just fine."

"That was before Harry had a major surgery," Lily pointed out. "James, I don't want to overwhelm our son right now. Let him rest and we'll tell him tomorrow. Alright?"

But James wasn't happy with the idea and he repeated his earlier statement. "I need to see Harry. I… I just need to know that he's really alright."

Lily nodded, understanding how her husband felt. "As soon as Harry nods off again, I'll come find you."

"There's something we need to discuss," Petunia said, thinking of what Dr. Vincent had said about Harry. She outlined the two options for Harry's post-surgical care and looked at Lily expectantly. "Since Harry is your son, I thought you should have a say in how we proceed."

"Well, if Harry's alright, I don't see any reason to subject him to any unnecessary treatment," Lily replied.

"I feel the same way," Petunia agreed, looking at Sirius. "But apparently, Sirius disagrees."

"We're talking about waiting for more problems to come up instead of preventing them in the first place?" James said, frowning. "No. If we do the preventative treatment now, we won't have to worry about Harry getting sick later."

Vernon wasn't sure about that notion and said so. "How do we know that the chemotherapy now will guarantee that Harry will be okay? He could still develop cancer if the drugs aren't strong enough."

"Not to mention all the horrible side effects," Petunia added.

James looked put off by his wife's stance, and he hated that she was taking such a big risk with Harry's health when he'd already had so many problems. The best defense was a good offense, after all. Glancing at Sirius, James knew that the two of them were outvoted and was equally sure that the decision was a mistake.

* * *

Waking the next morning, Harry scrunched his face in discomfort as he felt some sort of thin tube going in his nose and down his throat. At first, he didn't know why it was there, but remembering the previous day, he recalled Dr. Vincent inserting the tube after putting Harry on a strict clear-liquid diet for the next week to allow his throat to heal.

"Sleep well, dear?" Petunia said as she came into the room followed by Lily.

Since he couldn't nod because of the neck brace, Harry signed, **'Alright I guess.'** Sitting up after his aunt handed him his glasses, he said, **'I just couldn't get comfortable last night, between the neck brace and this tube down my nose.'**

"It's only for a week or so, sweetie," Lily said, comfortingly. "The doctor doesn't want you hurting your throat by swallowing too much. So you just have to put up with the nasogastric tube for a while."

Harry was about to ask his mother and aunt what would be happening to him after he recovered from his surgery and when he could go home—and where home would be—when one of the nurses came in.

"Morning, Harry," the nurse—Nicole Valentine—said, brightly as she set out a tray of equipment and a bag of IV nutritional formula. "If you don't mind, I'm going to check your trach tube, and then I'm going to connect the bag to the port end of your NG tube, okay?"

Still unable to nod because of the neck brace, Harry gave nurse a smile and kept his head still while the brace was removed.

Nicole donned gloves before cleaning and suctioning out Harry's tube. "Everything looks good," she reported, satisfied. Looking at Lily and Petunia, she added, "Dr. Vincent wanted to talk to you about Harry later today when he's done with some other patients."

"Yes. Of course," Petunia replied, nodding, as she watched the nurse replace the brace around Harry's neck.

Hanging the bag of formula on Harry's IV stand before connecting it to the port end of the NG tube, Nicole looked at Petunia and Lily. "Just give the nurses' desk a heads up when the bag is empty. I or someone else will come remove it."

When the nurse left, Lily closed the door and sat on the edge of Harry's bed, making sure she was in his line of sight.

' **I knew there was something else wrong yesterday,'** Harry signed, quickly, expecting bad news. **'Is this what Dr. Vincent wants to discuss—'**

"It's not bad news, Harry," Petunia assured him. When Harry still looked doubtful, she exchanged a look with Lily before turning her attentions to her nephew. "According to your headmaster, when Voldemort came after your parents that night, he didn't kill them as we'd previously believed." At this, Petunia nodded in her sister's direction. "He wiped their memories, and sent them to separate unknown locations."

His gaze flicking from his mother to his aunt, Harry slowly raised his hands and signed, **'You mean… my dad is still alive somewhere? Where is he?'**

Petunia went to the door and opened it, beckoning someone to come inside.

Harry straightened up in bed and his eyes widened as James Potter entered the room, staring at his son. 'Dad?' Harry mouthed, not sure if he believed his eyes.

James went over to Harry's other side and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling his son into a massive hug. "I can't believe it…" Pulling away and smiling sadly, he said, "I thought you'd died that night." Taking a moment to really look at Harry, James didn't care about the trach tube or if Harry couldn't talk. Just seeing his son alive again made him happy.

Harry felt tears welling up in his eyes as he hugged his father, not caring about anything else. He had his parents back and… Before he knew it, he was crying openly and a moment later, he started having trouble breathing.

"I'll get help!" Lily said, quickly, jumping up and racing out the door.

James looked on in horror as Petunia pulled him aside, watching as another nurse rushed in, adjusting Harry's bed so the teenager was flat on his back before suctioning out the tube.

Once Harry was breathing again, Lily helped Harry sit up, watching him to make sure he wasn't going to have another breathing episode. "It's okay, Harry. Breathe, honey."

Reality hit James like a bludger as he took in what Harry's life had been like for the past few weeks and what it could become if the premalignant cells in Harry's body went unchecked. "Lily, we need to talk," he said, gently pulling his wife out of Harry's hospital room and closing the door behind him.

"James, what the Hell are you doing? Lily snapped, irritably.

"Harry needs the chemotherapy," James said, firmly. When Lily started to argue her side again, he cut in. "I understand that Harry has been through a lot. I do. But we have to do everything we can to get Harry better so he can get that tube out."

Sighing, Lily gently squeezed James' upper arm. "It's scary, I know. But right now, this is Harry's life. And in a few weeks, he can get the tube out and we can start being a family again."

James shook his head, still resistant to the idea of waiting for something to happen. "Lily, what if Harry develops cancer and he has to have the trach tube for the rest of his life?" Pointing to the hospital room, he pressed on. "This could be our son's life from here on out. In and out of hospitals, the tube in his throat helping him breathe… Or worse, he's on one of those ventilators because he can't breathe on his own."

Lily felt sick to her stomach when she pictured Harry constantly stuck in the hospital, machines breathing for him and IVs dripping a steady stream of drugs into his body. Nodding slowly, she turned to look at Harry through the window of his room, trying to push the horrible images away. "Okay," she breathed, not liking the decision one bit.

"Okay," James agreed, hugging Lily. "Why don't you tell Petunia and Vernon and I'll stay with Harry for a bit."

Lily started to nod but then shook her head. "No, y-you don't know sign language." Eyeing her husband curiously, she added, "Wait, do you?"

Smirking before taking a step back and raising his hands, he signed as he spoke, "You ended up working at an animal rescue center. I ended working in a restaurant and my roommates in the house I lived in were both deaf. Took me a long time to pick up sign language but I've got the hang of it now."

"Okay, then," Lily said as she and James headed back into the room.

' **Is everything okay?'** Harry asked, nervously.

Once Lily left the room with her sister and brother-in-law, James sat down on the edge of Harry's bed. Signing as he spoke, he said, "I bet all this is pretty overwhelming for you, eh?"

Surprised that his father knew how to sign, Harry instinctively tried to nod when he remembered he couldn't move his head. **'Yeah, a bit,'** he replied. **'This is the best, worst, and strangest summer ever, by far.'**

Chuckling softly, James nodded in agreement. "I know exactly what you mean, son. Finding out that you and your mother are alive… I couldn't be happier. But seeing what you've been dealing with all these years… That hurts me more than I can tell you."

Harry smiled back for a brief moment before he said, **'Yesterday, Aunt Petunia and Sirius arguing about after I get out of the hospital and everything.'**

James nodded again, his expression serious. "I know your aunt and uncle want to just keep an eye on your condition. But your mother and I were talking about what happened just now and… we're going to talk to your doctor about the chemotherapy."

Harry sat up, looking stunned by the news. **'What? Why? Dad, I'm fine.'**

"Harry, there's no guarantee that you're going to _stay_ fine," James replied, firmly.

' **You have no idea what my life is like!'** Harry snapped, angrily. **'I don't want to be hooked up to an IV for the rest of the summer! I want out of the hospital! And I don't want my friends finding out I've been so sick.'**

James sighed, trying to think of the right thing to say to keep Harry from crying again. "Harry, you need to stay calm, remember?"

Harry took a deep breath but he still felt angry that his parents were making a decision like this without his input. **'I'm already a freak at Hogwarts. Everyone calls me 'The Boy Who Lived' because I survived when Voldemort tried to kill me. I had to learn how to do spells without being able to talk.'** Thinking of how to best explain his situation, Harry went on. **'I don't want to be sick anymore. I want to be able to talk to my friends… laugh at things… Even if I get this tube out, there's a chance I'll always have a hole in my throat. At the very least, I'll always have the scar. If I have to go through chemotherapy, I'm going to lose my hair and everyone will know how sick I really am. I want to at least look a little normal.'**

"You're not normal, Harry," James said, simply. "I'm so sorry you've had to deal with all this, but it's the way your life has gone. I'm trying to keep you alive. The chemo should destroy any premalignant cells and keep you from getting sick later."

' **But you don't know for sure that it will work, right?'** Harry protested. **'What if I go through the preventative chemo and I still develop cancer?'**

It was a definite risk, James couldn't deny that. He also knew that there was a risk of any surviving cancerous or premalignant cells becoming resistant to later chemotherapy. "If that happens, we'll deal with it then. But if this can keep you from being sick in the first place, isn't that a risk you should take?"

Harry thought about it and as he saw the unwavering look in his father's eyes, he said, **'It's not like I really have a choice in the matter, right?'** Looking away from James, he took a few deep breaths to keep himself from crying again.

* * *

Later that afternoon, after making the rounds of his other patients, Marcus Vincent stopped by his office to review what he'd written in Harry Potter's medical file before talking to the boy's family. Sitting at his desk, he looked over the documentation of the surgery, thinking. Before, the combination of premalignant cysts and scarring from infection had prevented Harry's vocal cords from functioning normally. However, it was possible that with the cords removed, Harry might be able to speak again, albeit at a whisper.

Closing the file, Vincent tapped the cover thoughtfully as he considered Harry's family. According to Petunia Dursley, Harry's parents disappeared about 12 years ago and were believed to be dead.

However, having recently found out about their son's illness, both James and Lily Potter had come out of hiding to reunite with their son.

The problem—as much as Vincent liked happy reunions—was that there was a certain degree of conflict between who was making medical decisions for Harry: His aunt or his mother?

Petunia Dursley was Harry's legal guardian and had taken care of him for over a decade.

Lily Potter was Harry's biological mother and deserved to have a say in the medical treatment of her child.

The last he'd heard, Harry's parents were leaning towards putting Harry through a preventative round of chemotherapy to counter any questionable cells.

The Dursleys wanted to monitor Harry's condition and deal with any problems as they arose.

Standing and grabbing the file, Vincent headed for Harry's room in the pediatric wing. He wound his way through the hallways, finding Harry's family in the patient lounge at the end of the hall.

"Dr. Vincent," Petunia said, standing as he approached. "Harry's sleeping if you needed to—"

"I wanted to know if there was any consensus about Harry's post-op treatment," Vincent replied, getting down to business. "If we're going the chemotherapy route, I need to consult with our pediatric oncologist on Harry's case. We'll also have to install an IV port in Harry's arm or upper chest."

James looked confused and asked, "Well, Harry already has one of those, right? For pain medication from the surgery?"

Vincent shook his head in response, and proceeded to explain. "I'm talking about a long term IV catheter instead of having a new IV put in for every treatment. All the nurse has to do is connect the IV and start the drip."

Petunia and Vernon exchanged unhappy looks and Vernon seemed a bit huffy as he nodded, briskly. "We're going the chemo route, so that will be fine."

"Does Harry have to stay in the hospital for the duration?" Petunia wanted to know.

Vincent didn't have an immediate answer to that question as he thought for a moment. "I can't say. Some oncologists prefer keeping patients admitted, and others think they do better recovering at home. Personally—because of Harry's trach tube—I would recommend keeping him here for the duration of his treatment."

"What are the risks involved with the kind of treatment you're talking about?" Vernon asked, not liking the whole idea one bit.

"There's the normal side effects of chemotherapy," Vincent replied. "Nausea, mouth sores, loss of appetite, hair loss, fatigue, etc. What we'd have to take special care to monitor with Harry is a lower white blood cell count which puts him at risk for infections. Given Harry's history of throat problems, severe infection could cause further damage to Harry's trachea." Giving Harry's a family chance to take in the information, Vincent paused before dropping the final bombshell. "There's also a significant risk of latent lung damage which would severely impact Harry's ability to breathe."

The Dursleys, Potters, and Sirius Black all exchanged silent looks, wondering if they were making the right decision.

* * *

A/N: So I have actually been waffling on how on what I want to do to Harry because usually when I do the 'Harry has cancer' story line, that's how the story begins. With this story, I want that plot thread to come into play later, but I also wanted it to have more context and background.

So, dear readers, I ask a question of all of you. Should Harry's family go through with the pre-emptive chemotherapy OR should they go the 'wait and see' route? Harry's going to get sick again either way, but I just need a path to follow.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Camille watched Harry sleeping, her mind buzzing as she thought about the events of the past several days. Harry being on the verge of developing cancer… James and Lily Potter being back from the dead…

Suddenly being able to hear again, she added, mentally when she heard someone being paged.

James Potter had contacted a healer late the previous night about magically amplifying Camille's hearing aids which had been a relatively easy procedure. Putting the devices back in, Camille was surprised to find her hearing practically returned to normal.

It was strange being able to unexpectedly hear again, though, and there were so many sounds going on in the hospital that Camille was honestly surprised Harry could sleep through all of it. But, then again, he was likely used to such sounds… unlike her.

Catching movement at the door, Camille looked up as a tall black man entered the room, giving Camille a smile. "I'm Dr. Donavan Wells. I'm the head pediatric oncologist. I need to talk to your cousin, Miss Dursley."

The doctor's voice was soothing, and he had a warm, reassuring smile on his face as he approached Harry's bed, looking at Camille.

"Um… sure. Of course," Camille said as she got up from the armchair she'd been sitting in. She went over to Harry, shaking his arm to wake him. When Harry opened his eyes, Camille handed him his glasses before helping him sit up. **'This is Dr. Wells. He's the oncologist.'**

' **Got it,'** Harry replied, simply, turning his attention to the doctor who sat down on the edge of the bed.

Camille gave Harry a smile as she gestured to the door. "I'll be right outside if you—" But she stopped when Harry started signing.

' **Stay,'** Harry said, quickly. **'I need you to interpret.'**

Camille nodded and sat on Harry's other side, facing him so as to better understand his signing.

"Harry, I know you've heard about the pre-emptive chemotherapy," Dr. Wells said, calmly, as he focused his attention on Harry. "And your father told me you're not happy about it."

"'You're right. I'm not'," Camille translated as Harry signed sharply. "'I'm the one who had to go through surgery. But it doesn't matter how I feel about it because you're not going to pay any mind to what I want anyway'."

Wells studied his young patient for a moment before he replied. "I am listening, Harry. I care about you… what _you_ want. I believe children and their families need to be in agreement about treatment. And if you don't want to go through with the chemotherapy, I'll respect that."

That caught Harry off guard. He'd been expecting the doctor to ignore what he wanted. Camille repeating his words out loud, he said, **'Really? You won't make me do the treatments if I don't want to?'**

"If you don't do the chemotherapy, you'll have to have regular blood tests and full body scans every 3 weeks," Wells advised. Knowing he needed to make sure Harry was fully aware of the situation, he added, "We'll have to keep a close eye on your breathing and watch for any further throat infections. You'll need to come straight to the hospital if you feel like your throat is sore or you're not getting enough air."

Harry agreed, shrugging as best as he could. He didn't care what he had to do, he just wanted to be back to what constituted as normal for him.

"What about some sort of middle ground?" Camille asked, curiously. Looking from Harry to the oncologist, she clarified what she meant. "I know Harry doesn't have cancer right now, but is there something he can take—something other than chemo—to keep him from _getting_ sick? Like a…vaccine, or something?"

Wells thought about the question for a few moments, thinking of the treatment options, and after a good amount of consideration, he slowly nodded. "There are drugs usually administered _after_ chemotherapy to keep any other cells from becoming malignant. I'll do some research and see if I can come up with a regimen that will be effective."

Once the doctor had left the room, Camille turned her attention to Harry who was giving her a glare. **'Don't look at me like that, Harry.'**

' **Really?'** Harry signed, annoyed. **'My parents…** _ **your**_ **parents? Everyone's trying to shove more drugs into me now** _ **you**_ **jump on the bandwagon?'**

' **Harry, listen to me,'** Camille said, quickly. "I get how hard this is for you. But the sooner you're better, the sooner you can put all of this behind you." Seeing that Harry still felt betrayed, she sighed and went on. "Harry, the longer you have the tube in, the more problems you're going to have to deal with."

Leaning back, Harry knew that everyone was right and that his stubbornness could result in further illness. **'Okay. I'll do the middle ground treatment.'**

xxxxx

Later that evening, Donavan Wells sat in his office with Harry's family. "I've talked to Harry about the chemotherapy and he told me he doesn't want to go through with it. I understand that you all want to proceed with treatment."

"We just want what's best for Harry," Lily assured the doctor.

Wells nodded, understandingly. "Agreed. Which is why I propose a compromise. I've already spoken to Harry about a prophylactic treatment regimen using a drug…cocktail, if you will, usually administered _after_ chemotherapy. I believe it will be effective in shutting down any potentially malignant cells while not being too aggressive on Harry's body."

The Potters and Dursleys exchanged looks for a moment before Petunia asked, "How would these drugs be administered? Harry can't swallow pills right now."

"Harry will receive ten treatments—two every week—intravenously," Wells explained. "We can install a temporary IV port so Harry doesn't have to get a separate IV each time."

Thinking of what they'd been told when discussing Harry's potential chemotherapy treatments, Marge asked the first question that came to mind. "Will Harry need to stay in the hospital?"

Wells leaned back in his chair, thinking for a moment. "I don't think so. We'll schedule Harry's treatments at an outpatient facility. He can go in to the treatment room a nurse will connect the IV and start the drip, and Harry can be home in a few hours."

Vernon and James nodded in agreement and Petunia, Lily, and Marge agreed as well. "When can Harry come home?" Petunia wanted to know.

"We'll need to put in the IV port in Harry's upper chest first," Wells explained. "I can arrange to have that done first thing in the morning and then the day after tomorrow, Harry can get out of here."

"And how long does Harry have to wear that neck brace?" Lily asked.

Wells shrugged, uncertainly, as he thought about how to respond. "I couldn't tell you for sure. That would be a question for Dr. Vincent." Picking up the phone on his desk, he called Marcus Vincent's office and asked the doctor to join him. Hanging up, Wells looked at the assembled group. "He's on his way up."

Thinking of other questions for the oncologist, James said, "What kind of side effects are likely with these treatments?"

"Harry's going to be receiving what's better known as 'maintenance therapy'," Wells replied. "That can have a different variety of side effects than chemo. Nausea is possible—although actual vomiting is rare. Low energy levels, nightmares, joint and bone pain are common, as are muscle spasms."

"Is there anything we can do to counteract any of that?" Vernon asked.

Again, Wells, shrugged. "I'll make sure you're given enough medications to off-set any side effects while Harry's having his treatments. But since he can't swallow pills right now, the meds will either have to be injected, or you'll need to crush up the pills and mix them with ice cream or something."

When Marcus Vincent arrived, he greeted the Dursleys and Potters and got an abbreviated update from Dr. Wells before turning his attention to Harry's family to answer their questions. "Given the nature of Harry's surgery, pulling his stitches or any strain to his throat could be potentially dangerous," Vincent explained in response to Lily's query. "I want Harry to keep wearing the neck brace for at least another week. He can take it off at night to sleep as long as his neck is properly supported."

"What about the tube up Harry's nose?" James asked, forgetting the actual name for the thing.

"Harry's nasogastric tube is going to remain in place until I'm satisfied Harry's throat has sufficiently healed," Vincent replied. "Harry should be able to swallow in a few days, but he will have to stick to soft food for the next few weeks. The tube will make it easier for Harry to get the proper nutritional intake."

Looking at Harry's family, Vincent added, "I'll write up detailed information on daily care and maintenance of the tube as well as Dr. Wells'—" he nodded at his colleague. "—instructions for Harry's other medications."

"If there are no further complications regarding Harry's condition," Lily asked, looking at the two doctors. "—how soon can he have the trach tube removed?"

Vincent thought about the question carefully and finally replied, "We should keep the tube in place for another week. But if there are no setbacks, bring Harry back in next Friday and we'll remove the trach tube."

* * *

Stuck in the house, Dudley felt bored out of his mind and he didn't like the way his thoughts were going.

His parents wanted to send him away because he was belligerent and abusive… and part of Dudley figured he deserved whatever punishment his parents threw at him.

Hearing the front door open, he got up from the living room couch and stopped dead when he saw the strange man in the doorway. "C-Can I help you?" Dudley asked, cursing the slight stutter in his voice.

The stranger was tall, with long—slightly scraggily—black hair pulled back in a ponytail. But it was the man's eyes that really unnerved Dudley. There was a crazed look, and a rage that seemed barely contained. "You're Harry's cousin…aren't you?" The stranger said in a slightly raspy voice, as though he hadn't spoken aloud in a long time.

Taking a few steps backward as the man came into the house and closed the door behind him, Dudley tried to sound tough as he replied, "So what if I am? You some teacher from his school, come to report me or something?"

The stranger slowly withdrew a thin wand and pointed it at Dudley, grinning maniacally as he said, "I'm Harry's godfather." Advancing on Dudley, trying to keep his menacing act up as the young man backed against the wall, Sirius Black went on. "I heard you've been very mean to Harry. I don't like it when people threaten my family."

Dudley was up against the wall, his heart pounding and his eyes wide with fear as Sirius raised the wand to attack. Closing his eyes against whatever spell was put on him, Dudley froze when he felt something crawling all over his head. He whimpered when he felt the…the whatever's claws raking his skin slightly. "Get it off! Get it off! I'm sorry! I'm sorry I was so mean to Harry and my sister! I swear I'll be nicer to my parents! Just please get this thing off of me before it kills me!"

It took a moment for Sirius to reign in the urge to start snickering as he put his wand away. "Open your eyes, son," he said in a reassuring voice. "It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you."

Dudley slowly opened one eye, flinching as Sirius reached out a hand towards him to grab the creature on his head. But when Sirius withdrew his hand, Dudley opened both eyes when he saw a black and white kitten, looking at him with a bemused expression. "Wait, you… You put a cat on my head?"

Sirius handed the kitten back with a smile, watching Dudley scratching the feline's neck. "Your parents told me what you've been up to, Dudley," Sirius said after a while, his expression turning somber. "Consider this little guy—" He gave the cat a quick scratch behind the ears. "—your first test." When the teenager looked confused, Sirius explained. "He's Harry's 'welcome home' present. You're job is to take care of him and come up with a name."

Dudley looked down at the kitten now purring in his arms and looked back up at Sirius, nodding in understanding.

* * *

Friday morning, Harry woke early when Petunia and Lily came into the room. Once Harry was dressed, he looked ready to go but Petunia signaled him to wait. "Dr. Vincent wants to take one last look at your throat before we leave," Petunia explained, as the doctor came into the room.

Harry rolled his eyes as he sat on the edge of the bed, his impatience obvious.

Vincent smiled as he looked down the inside of Harry's throat before inspecting the surgical incision, trach tube, and NG tube. "Okay, Harry. Everything looks okay. Now, I want you to take it easy for the next few weeks, alright? Rest…And take care of yourself. I don't want to see you back here before next Friday, understand?"

'Got it," Harry mouthed as he stood up and followed his mother out of the room.

Vincent handed a large, thick envelope to Petunia along with 6 different prescription forms. "Take the prescriptions to the hospital pharmacy to be filled. The instructions for the medications are in the packet I gave you along with care and cleaning information on Harry's tubes." Handing Petunia a small case, he added, "Since Harry's going to have the tubes at least one more week, here are any replacement parts he may need."

Petunia nodded as she took the case and thanked the doctor. "I appreciate you being so good with Harry."

"Hopefully, things will start getting better from here on out," Vincent replied, as Petunia left the room and headed for the elevators.

After getting all of Harry's medications and extra nutritional formulas, the trio headed out to the parking lot where James and Vernon were already waiting near the Dursleys' van.

Sitting in the back seat with his parents, Harry tapped his father on the arm to get his attention before signing, **'Where's Sirius? I didn't see him at the hospital yesterday.'**

"Sirius said he wanted to meet Dudley," James explained. "He also said something about a special surprise for you, Harry." When Harry raised an eyebrow in bemusement, James laughed. "Don't worry. Sirius is a good man, although he has been known to be a little…"

"Reckless?" Lilly supplied. "Headstrong? Stubborn? Oh, wait—I'm sorry, James. That's you."

' **Must run in the family then,'** Harry signed to his dad.

* * *

Getting home, Harry entered the house behind his aunt and mother and immediately gave a start when something small, black and white, and furry hit the top of his head, nesting in his hair.

"Lockhart, get off Harry!" Dudley said, as he hurried down the stairs and pulled the kitten off of his cousin's head.

"What is that cat's obsession with being on people's heads?" Camille asked as she came up behind her brother, watching in perplexity as the kitten shimmied up Dudley's shoulder and up onto his head.

' **Did Dudley call that cat 'Lockhart'?'** Harry asked, pointing at the feline in question.

Camille nodded as she replied, "Dudley found one of your books by Gilderoy Lockhart when he was cleaning our room yesterday. Apparently, since both Lockharts have an obsession with hair, he thought it would make a good name for the cat."

Removing Lockhart from his head, Dudley handed the kitten back to Harry. "Welcome home, Harry," he said with a small smile. Frowning a bit a moment later, he added, "I'm really sorry for how I've acted towards you. I should never have been so cruel to you." Turning to his parents, Dudley gave both of them a hug before saying, "I've been a real prat and I hope you guys can give me a chance to make it up to you."

Petunia and Vernon looked at James who, in turn, looked over at Sirius who had just come in from the kitchen. "Dudley and I had a nice, long talk while we worked on cleaning up the whole house—including the basement."

Petunia's eyes widened at that since she knew how much junk was down there. Covering her shock by giving her son a smile, she nodded, appreciatively. "That's a very good job, Dudley. I'm proud of you."

"I-I was thinking," Dudley went on, cautiously. "Maybe we could turn the basement into a bedroom for me and Camille or Harry could have my old room?"

Vernon and Petunia exchanged a look before Vernon replied, "That's possible. We'll talk about it after breakfast, though. Alright?"

"Yeah, of course," Dudley said, quickly. Turning to Harry, Dudley tried not staring at the trach and NG tubes as he asked, "You want some juice or something? Sirius picked up a bunch of fruit at the market early this morning if you want a smoothie for breakfast."

Harry looked at Camille and signed, **'Maybe just a small glass of juice.'** When Camille translated, Harry added, **'I think that's all my throat can tolerate right now.'**

"Juice, it is," Sirius said, brightly as he ushered everyone into the dining room with had been magically expanded a bit to accommodate everyone. "I've got a casserole in the oven and cinnamon rolls cooling on the counter."

As everyone started to sit down, James joined Sirius by the counter and whispered in his best friend's ear, "What exactly did you say to Dudley? From what I hear, his attitude right now is quite a turnaround."

Sirius shrugged as he spread icing on the cinnamon rolls. "I may have given him a little scare when I first got here," he confessed. "But after actually talking to the kid, I think Dudley's really willing to make a change in his attitude."


	5. Chapter 5

AUTHOR'S NOTES: First off, I apologize for the long absence of activity on this particular story. But in my defense I have since:

1\. Moved cross-country from Michigan to South Carolina

2\. Changed jobs.

3\. Lost both my dogs.

4\. Dealt with TWO hurricanes—Florence and Dorian. (Minimal problems, Thank God)

So I guess you could say I've been busy.

But the good news is I finally got some brain cells hopping on this story again so hopefully I'll have another chapter up soon.

Okay, personal stuff out of the way, let's talk about this chapter and the fact that the two drugs I mention by name are made up. They're fake. And before anyone says that it's being lazy not looking up _actual_ medications—making up drug names is NOT as easy as it sounds!

Also, this chapter picks up immediately after the previous one.

So please enjoy, folks!

* * *

Chapter 5

After the breakfast dishes were cleared away and Harry had gone upstairs to have a lie down in his own bed, Lily took the packet of information on her son's medications and treatment schedule and studied it.

There were 4 drugs that were in pill form—three of which needed to be crushed and swallowed and the other which would dissolve in the mouth—to help with muscle spasms, pain, boosting Harry's immune system, and any problems with sleeping.

There was an anti-nausea patch to be used after Harry's IV treatments as needed.

Lastly, there were two liquid medications. One was to help weaken any malignant or premalignant cells and had to be injected twice a day. The other was to help prevent the formation of mouth and stomach sores or ulcers as a result of the rest of the medications and had to be swallowed or injected into Harry's nasogastric tube.

Starting on Monday, Harry would get his IV treatments at a nearby clinic twice a week—Monday and Thursday—which would consist of a combination of another trio of medications.

"Lily?"

Looking up to see Vernon giving her a questioning look, Lily gave a nod at the papers. "I-I'm just trying to make sure we get Harry's medication schedule correct." Going for the bag of medications, she pulled them out while Vernon retrieved a notepad and a pen.

"What does Harry have to take today?" Vernon asked, writing down the days of the week, leaving plenty of space to list the medications.

Lily read over everything again before pointing to the two liquid medicines. "Harry needs two doses of the papinoyl—one in the morning or early afternoon, and again before bed. The dynzyne is taken once a day _before_ Harry has anything to eat."

After making a note, Vernon withdrew the quick-dissolve tablets from the group, writing down the name and its purpose. "These are for muscle spasms and cramps," he said, putting them aside. "Harry just has to take that once a day if he needs to. They'll dissolve under his tongue."

Petunia joined the pair at the table, looking at the remaining medications. "Sirius bought a bunch of flavored gelatins," she mentioned, thinking about to how help Harry take the pills. "I'll mix those up, use paper cups for dosing and put one of the immunity pills in each cup. The others we can crush up and give Harry as needed."

"Harry takes the immunity pills twice a day," Lily added as Vernon made notes. "And he can't take them on an empty stomach or they can cause nausea."

After another quarter of an hour, Vernon tapped the note pad with his pen, studying the schedule. Looking at Petunia, Lily, and James, he reported, "So every morning—as soon as he gets up—Harry will take the dynzyne. Then we'll give him the first dose of the papinoyl with breakfast along with the immunity booster." Looking at Harry's parents and his wife, Vernon asked, "What about Harry's IV treatments? I can drop Harry off at the clinic on the way to work but someone will need to pick him up afterwards."

"We'll take care of it, dear," Petunia assured her husband, patting his arm. Looking at the clock on the wall, she stood, picking up the papinoyl vial and the box of disposable syringes. "I'll go give Harry his first dose of this now. We'll start him on the rest of the medications tomorrow morning."

"I'll come with you," Lily said, following her sister upstairs where Harry was sitting up in bed playing with Lockhart.

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" Lily asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Harry shrugged as best as he could, turning so he could see what his aunt was doing. **'What's that?'**

"One of the medications you doctor gave you," Lily replied as Petunia made sure the dosage was correct. "We made a schedule of all your meds and treatments." Nodding at the syringe Petunia held, she went on. "You're going to get two of these shots a day, a dose of medicine to help boost your immune system so you can better fight off any malignant cells and get your strength back, and another drug to help keep you from getting mouth and stomach sores."

' **Okay.'** Harry watched as his aunt injected the contents of the syringe into his IV port. **'That's it?'**

"That's it for that medicine," Lily clarified. "Petunia's going to make some Jello for you so you can take your immunity booster." After a moment, she added, "And you should probably take some of the nutritional formula since you've barely eaten anything the past several days."

Harry crinkled his nose, his face scrunching in discomfort as he felt the NG tube. It was weird—one moment he forgot the tube was there, the next, he could practically feel the thing all the way down to his stomach. His dilemma at the moment was whether he wanted to try swallowing the formula—it was gritty in texture and tasted stale and chalky—or have it injected into the tube up his nose. Plus, the stuff made his stomach feel weird and constantly made him need to use the bathroom.

On the other hand, Harry felt hungry and formula was probably the closest thing he'd get to eating for the next day or two until he was cleared to swallow soft foods. **'Fine,'** he begrudgingly agreed.

After his mother and aunt left the room, Harry let out a deep sigh, reminding himself that he had agreed to this line of treatment. Still, he hated the fact that he couldn't breathe or eat normally. And Dr. Vincent had warned him that the hole in his throat—the doctor had called it a stoma—might not close all the way when it healed. In that case, Harry would have to be careful about covering the hole when coughing or trying to talk.

That had been the one piece of actual good news.

After the tracheostomy tube was removed—and since the surgery had not been a total laryngectomy—whenhis throat had had ample time to heal, Harry would very likely regain his ability to speak. True, it might very well take a while to learn how to talk again, but it was possible.

Hearing someone knocking on the door frame—and since his back was facing the door—Harry moved Lockhart off of his lap before getting up and turning to face his visitor.

James gave his son a rueful smile as he held up a small bag of formula. "Your mother sent me up with this."

Harry turned to look around his room and gestured to the stand that held Hedwig's cage. **'You can hang it from there. Just… move it closer to the bed.'**

James nodded and did as instructed while Harry sat down with his back to the foot of the bed. After connecting the formula to the NG tube, James sat down on the desk chair after moving it so he was facing his son. "Your first major IV treatment will be on Monday. I was wondering if you wanted me to go with you."

Surprised by the request, Harry's eyes lit up with unexpected delight. **'Yeah, that'd be great.'**

Grinning at the prospect of getting to spend time with his son, James wondered if he should talk to Harry about living arrangements. Although, it would probably be best to hold off a bit. Perhaps while Harry was at Hogwarts James and Lily could find a place and then offer Harry the choice when he came home for the summer.

"So…" James began changing the subject when he saw Harry fiddling with the NG tube. "Your aunt tells me that you play quidditch."

' **I'm a seeker,'** Harry replied, grinning happily. **'I made the team my first year. It was my first time on a broom when Draco Malfoy swiped this memory ball thing from one of my classmates. Malfoy tried to chuck it away but I managed to catch it right outside of the window in McGonagall's office. She saw me and put me on the team straight away.'**

James laughed as he thought of his own 'tryout' and stood up so as to better tell the story. "When I made the team, Sirius and I had been messing with the Whomping Willow. We were flying around the thing, dodging branches when a branch hit Sirius hard enough to knock him another 25 feet into the air. I fly over and caught him before he hit the ground."

'Wow,' Harry mouthed, impressed. Thinking about quidditch, he asked, **'Are you, Mum, and Sirius going to come watch me play this year?'**

"Of course," James assured his son, sitting down on the bed again, watching with amusement as Lockhart climbed up Harry and settled down on the top of his head. "That is one weird cat."

Harry gave a silent laugh as he plucked the feline from his head and reached for one of the loose feathers from Hedwig's cage, using it as a cat toy to Lockhart's delight. **'Maybe if I lost all my hair he'd be less likely to perch on my head.'** Catching his father's look, Harry let out a deep sigh. **'I'm sorry. I didn't mean—'**

"Harry, I want to do everything possible to make sure that you don't actually develop cancer," James explained. "Back in the hospital, I had this image of you with the tubes and no hair… You were on one of those machines to help you breathe—"

' **A ventilator?'** Harry signed, frowning slightly.

' **Yeah,'** James signed in response, not wanting his son to hear the choke in his voice. **'One of those. I just got you back. I don't know what I would do if I had to face losing you again.'**

Harry could feel tears welling up in his eyes and he tried to calm himself down, not wanting to set off a breathing episode so soon after getting out of the hospital. After a few deep, calming breaths, Harry sniffed hard, coughing as he inadvertently sucked down too much of the formula.

"Harry!" James shouted, leaping up and checking to see what he could do.

Harry fumbled as he reached a hand up to cover the trach tube, breathing through his free nostril until he felt everything settle. Taking his hand away from the trach, he took another deep breath, looking up at his father who looked incredibly panicked.

Before James could ask Harry if he was okay, he heard urgent footsteps behind him and turned to see Petunia, Lily, and Vernon coming to see what was wrong.

' **I'm okay,'** Harry signed, still feeling slightly out of breath. **'Just accidentally sucked up too much formula.'**

Petunia went to the owl stand and disconnected the bag of formula from the NG tube before turning to Lily. "Could you grab the kit Dr. Vincent gave us for the tube?"

"Of course," Lily replied, nodding, before turning away and heading back downstairs.

Vernon stepped away for a moment at well, returning with the equipment needed to clean and suction Harry's tracheostomy tube. "Just to be safe," he said to Harry's raised eyebrow.

' **I understand,'** Harry signed, leaning back against the frame of the lower bunk bed.

"Keep your head still," Vernon instructed as he removed the neck brace before making sure the trach tube was clear.

When Lily returned, she helped Petunia flush Harry's NG tube before putting the brace back on. "Maybe you should get some rest," Lily advised, getting her son settled before placing Lockhart near the top of his head.

This time, however, the black and white kitten walked down towards Harry's shoulders, climbing onto his chest and seemed to be checking around for the perfect position to feel his owner breathing. Once the kitten found the perfect spot, he curled up, purring softly.

' **Good boy, Lockhart,'** Harry signed with a smile.

The cat seemed to have an 'I'm not a dog, you know' look, but stayed put nonetheless.

Petunia gently ruffled Harry's hair as everyone else left the room. "Get some sleep, dear. We'll check on you later." Taking Harry's glasses as the boy closed his eyes, Petunia laid them on the desk nearby before giving Lockhart a quick scritch on the side of his head before leaving as well, making certain to leave the door open so she could hear any noise.

x

When Harry woke from his nap later that afternoon, he was surprised to see an empty formula bag hanging from Hedwig's cage. Seeing Marge sitting at the desk reading a book, he tried to get her attention.

Lockhart, seeing that Harry was awake, gave a yowl which caused Marge to quickly look over at the bed, a look of concern on her face. "Feeling alright, Harry?"

Harry slowly sat up, turning around carefully as his NG tube was still connected to the bag. **'I'm okay,'** he assured her. **'Need to use the bathroom.'**

After disconnecting the empty bag and flushing out the tube once more, Marge watched Harry leave the room and head towards the bathroom he, Camille, and Dudley shared. The boy was much too thin, she observed. He needed a few good meals and some sunshine to get some color back in his cheeks.

The main problem with that, she knew, was that Harry couldn't actually swallow real food at the moment and—if her research was spot on, as she suspected it was—he wouldn't be able to for quite some time.

Sitting down once more after throwing away the empty formula bag and taking care of the litter box in the corner, Marge smiled to herself as she came up with an idea. The evening was supposed to be warm and she had an excellent recipe for a pureed fruit gazpacho.

Perhaps an al fresco 'dessert' dinner might be in order.

When Harry came back and sat down on the bed, after closing the door, he looked at Marge for a moment before signing, **'Aunt Marge, can I talk to you about something?'**

"Of course, dear," she said, smiling kindly at her nephew.

' **I don't want you to tell anyone else—especially not my parents,'** Harry added.

Sitting up straighter, Marge gave the boy her full attention. She hated the idea of keeping any kind of secrets from James and Lily Potter, especially if those secrets involved Harry's well-being. But the young man's pleading gaze was too much to resist and she nodded. "Very well," she agreed. Leaning back and waiting for Harry to speak, she coaxed him gently. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

Harry took a deep breath and finally asked the question he'd been holding in since he first found out his mother was alive. **'Do… Do I have to live with my parents? You know, instead of here with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia?'**

Well… That certainly wasn't the subject Marge had expected. And it was one that she had to admit she didn't really feel comfortable talking about. But she had her own questions and figured that that was a good place to start. Opting to stick with sign language—just in case someone happened to walk past the closed door and overhear—Marge asked, **'Don't you want to live with your parents?'**

' **I don't know,'** Harry admitted, scooting backwards so he was sitting cross-legged on the bed. **'I mean… Yeah, they're my mum and dad, but… I don't really know them. I think I want to get to know them first.'**

' **A perfectly understandable feeling,'** Marge observed, nodding thoughtfully. **'I completely agree. Take the rest of the summer, spend some time with them… And next summer, when your parents have their own house, maybe spend time there as well as here.'**

' **But what about the custody issue?'** Harry pressed, thinking of the disagreements a few days ago regarding his medical treatment.

' _Another excellent question,'_ Marge said to herself. She knew full well that James and Lily wanted to regain custody of their son, but what about in the eyes of the law? How would a judge rule about giving a child back to parents that had been presumed dead for over a decade? **'I think it will ultimately come down to what is best for you,'** she concluded after some thought. Giving Harry a critical look, she added, **'But that means that you would have to tell your parents as well as my brother and sister-in-law how you feel.'**

' **I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings,'** Harry argued, looking suddenly scared. **'If I tell my parents I don't want to live with them right away, they'll be furious at me, right? Because they'll think I'm rejecting them?'**

"Oh, Harry," Marge murmured as she went to sit on the bed, pulling Harry into a hug. "It wouldn't be like that, I promise."

Hearing a knock at the door, Harry and Marge both stood as Petunia came in, gesturing to the window. "I just saw Hedwig heading towards the house while I was out gardening. I figured you might want to let her in."

Turning to the window, Harry opened it just as his snowy owl flew up to the sill, a trio of envelopes in her beak. The owl fluttered over to the bed, dropping the letters before cocking her head to the side with an inquisitive look as she studied her owner.

Realizing that Hedwig hadn't seen him yet with the NG tube, Harry stroked the white feathers and lightly touched the tube before signing, **'It's okay, girl. It's to help me eat.'**

"She understands you?" Marge inquired, stroking the owl's head before letting the bird give her fingers a gentle nibble.

"Harry started teaching her sign language as soon as we got her," Petunia explained. "She's a very smart bird."

Wondering how Hedwig felt about the kitten, Marge looked from Lockhart—who was still on the bed—to Hedwig who was eyeing the small cat. "Have these two been formerly introduced?" When Petunia and Harry gave her identical puzzled expressions, she clarified. "Hedwig knows that Lockhart is another pet and not a potential meal?"

' **I hadn't thought about that,'** Harry mused. Picking up Lockhart with one hand, he looked at Hedwig before pointing to the kitten. **'Friend. Not food. Okay? He's a friend. We don't eat friends. His name is Lockhart.'**

Hedwig stared at the kitten for a few moments before leaning over and giving Lockhart a scritch behind the ear and nuzzling him under the chin with her beak.

Likewise, Lockhart rubbed the top of his head against Hedwig's breast, burrowing his face into the soft feathers.

' **Good girl… Good boy,'** Harry praised both his animal friends.

Putting a hand on Harry's shoulder, Marge said, "I'm going to go downstairs and help Petunia get dinner ready. You'll be alright alone?"

A loud 'meow' from Lockhart and a soft screech from Hedwig answered the question. Both adults knew that if anything should happen, either the owl or kitten would let them know.

* * *

Monday morning came faster that Harry expected and at 10:30, he found himself outside of Raines Medical Center with his father. Vernon had dropped them off only moments ago and James had promised to get Harry and himself back to the house by 4 that afternoon.

Inside the lobby, James and Harry followed the signs on the wall that led to the Outpatient Treatment Clinic near the rear of the building.

Opening the door to the clinic, James signed Harry in at the front desk and a nurse came up to the pair.

"I'm Belle Watters," the middle-aged woman said with a gentle smile.

"James Potter," James replied, shaking the woman's hand. Putting a hand on Harry's shoulder, he added, "This is Harry. It's his first treatment."

Belle nodded in acknowledgement, her smile never wavering. "We have a copy of Harry's file and we've got his treatments all set up. Follow me."

The room was half-empty and Harry felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as he noticed how most of the people there were at least twice his age. A teenager about 17 years old was sitting in a wheelchair and playing a video game in the media corner, and as Harry sat down in one of the lounge chairs across the room, he felt a jolt of excitement that the teen was playing his favorite Zelda game.

Once Belle had set Harry's IV drip to the correct dosage, Harry put a hand on his father's arm and indicated he needed James to interpret for him.

James nodded as his son signed, pointing to the teenager and the video game as he did so. Turning to Belle, he explained. "Harry wants to know if he can sit with the other kid and play the game, too."

Belle let out an immense sigh of relief and her eyes betrayed a slightly exasperated look. "Oh, would you, please?" Making sure she wasn't being stared at by the strange boy, she explained. "Mitch lost part of his hearing when he was 5 years old. Meningitis. He lost the rest of his hearing to a brain tumor 5 years ago. The doctors did surgery and he was fine for a good while."

"But the cancer came back?" James deduced, not liking the sinking feeling in his gut.

Belle nodded, sadly. "He had more surgery last year, but his hand-eye coordination was affected. The physical therapists recommended the video games to help, but now Mitch won't talk to anyone. He just plays his games. He's been in chemotherapy for 10 months." Leading Harry over to Mitch, she tapped the teenager on the arm, waiting until he turned to look at her before speaking. "Mitch, this is Harry. He was wondering if he could play your game for a bit."

' **What level are you on?'** Harry asked, looking at the television screen.

"This stupid Dark World Dungeon," Mitch said aloud, turning back to the game.

Harry watched for a while and then tapped Mitch to get his attention. **'Can I give it a shot?'**

Mitch shrugged and tossed the controller over to Harry who caught it without even looking. "Nice reflexes," he observed, an almost wistful tone in his voice.

' **Practice,'** Harry replied, grinning as he sat down on the chair Belle brought over. **'Lots and lots of practice. Same way I'm going to beat this level easy.'**

"Good luck," Mitch scoffed, watching Harry play. But after about 20 minutes and Harry had beaten the level, he stared at the younger kid in awe. "How did you do that?"

Giving a silent laugh, Harry set the controller aside. **'I played a lot on my game system at home. I had a lot of sore throats when I was younger and so I had plenty of days home sick from school.'**

As he looked from Harry's trach tube to the NG tube, Mitch felt bad for the kid. "What kind of cancer do you have?"

Harry hesitated for a moment and then explained about his own surgeries and prophylactic treatment. As he'd finished, a question started niggling at the back of his mind and even though he didn't want to be insensitive about the issue, his curiosity got the better of him. **'So… You know sign language… but you don't use it?'**

Letting out a deep breath and running a shaky hand over his bald head—his fingers lingering for a moment as they touched the surgical scars—Mitch tried to sign as he spoke but he quickly started messing up his gestures and so he stuck with talking out loud. "My last surgery messed up my hand-eye coordination. And when I try to sign, I can't get my hands and fingers to do what I want them to." Nodding at the TV, he went on. "Playing video games is supposed to help… but really I just use it as an outlet for my anger and frustration."

' **I know the feeling,'** Harry admitted. **'When I was 8, I was told that I had scarring on my vocal cords that caused me to be unable to speak. I hated not being able to talk to my friends or my family. Talking in sign language is fine… but I miss talking aloud.'**

Looking down at his hands, an idea started to form in Mitch's mind and he grinned at Harry. "How about a trade?"

' **A trade? What kind?'** Harry wanted to know.

Holding up the game controller, Mitch explained, "You can play my game… if you help me learn how to sign again."

'Deal,' Harry mouthed, holding out his hand for Mitch to shake.

x

When Mitch had finished his own treatment—halfway through Harry's—the two exchanged phone numbers and Harry even invited his new friend to his birthday party in a few weeks.

Turning off the game as James came over and took the chair Mitch had vacated, Harry apologized for ignoring his father.

"No problem," James assured him. "You looked like you were having fun. I didn't feel right butting in."

Remembering his conversation with Aunt Marge a few days ago, Harry decided that now was as good a time as ever to broach the topic of living arrangements. **'Dad… I know you want me to live with you and Mum since, well… you aren't dead… but…'**

"But you're not really ready for that… are you?" James finished, knowingly. At Harry's confirmation, James leaned back, running a hand through his messy black hair. "Your mother and I sort of suspected that might be the case since you hadn't said anything about leaving the Dursleys'."

' **I didn't want to hurt your feelings,'** Harry admitted. **'I… I talked to Aunt Marge. She said I should tell you how I feel.'**

Leaning forward, James smiled warmly. "Am I a little disappointed that you don't want to live with Lily and I right away? Yes. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't. But given that you've had a pretty good life with Petunia and Vernon—all things considered—I can understand why you're not in a rush to leave." Pulling his son into a hug and feeling tears in his eyes when Harry hugged back, he went on. "But your mother and I aren't going anywhere." Pulling back, he ruffled Harry's hair. "You don't have to choose, Harry. Lily and I are moving to a house 10 minutes away. If you come with us, you can visit your aunt and uncle as often as you want. If you choose to stay with them… same thing. Alright?"

Harry couldn't respond as he'd started crying and he quickly signed that he was having trouble breathing.

Calling for one of the nurses, James stepped back quickly as two nurses rushed over, grabbing a gurney that was parked in the corner and transferring Harry onto it before rushing him out of the room towards the emergency services station near the main entrance.

James ran after them, watching as Harry was taken to the nearest cubicle and both tubes were suctioned out and the NG tube was flushed.

Once Harry was given a mild sedative and sent to a nearby exam room for observation for a few hours, James went into the restroom as he felt a fresh wave of tears stinging his eyes. Going into one of the bathroom stalls, he couldn't help crying as he thought about once again watching his son have his trach tube suctioned out.

Pounding the stall door and letting out a frustrated cry, James was startled when he heard someone say his name. Coming out of the stall, James was even more surprised to see Sirius standing there. "Padfoot? What are you…?"

Sirius shrugged and pointed up as he replied, "Upstairs… talking with a psychiatrist." Seeing James' wide-eyed look of astonishment, he explained. "12 years in Azkaban… finding out my godson is really sick… I didn't want to talk about it with you and Lily or the Dursleys. And Dumbledore said there's a shrink upstairs who's a squib, so I don't have to lie about the magic-related stuff."

Still on the verge of crying again, James spoke quickly. "Harry and I were talking about his living arrangements. He started crying and the nurses had to bring him to Emergency and suction his tubes out. Oh, God…" Whirling around, James went back into one of the stalls and suddenly vomited in the toilet. Coming out again and rinsing his mouth out after flushing, he gave his best friend a pleading look. "Don't tell anyone… about any of this. I don't want to panic anyone about Harry… or me."

"Harry's your son," Sirius said, with one of his knowing looks. "I think you freaking out about him is perfectly natural."

"I haven't even been back in his life a week and I feel like I'm failure as a father!" James shouted, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "And this is the _second_ time that I've personally caused him to start crying so hard he couldn't breathe because of the tu—" Stopping and taking a few deep breaths to keep from needing to throw up again, James leaned against the wall and buried his face in his hands.

"James, I'd be worried if you _didn't_ have a meltdown about this," Sirius said, not sure how to buck his best friend up. "There's a lot going on with Harry right now. And it's scary as all Hell. But you're not alone. Lily's had her moments and so have the Dursleys."

After a few moments, James nodded, understanding that he needed to stop holding back how he was feeling about everything. "You're right."

Sirius smirked and shrugged. "It's been known to happen."


	6. Chapter 6

AUTHOR'S NOTES: So a quick shout-out to one of my reviewers, Jostanos, for giving me a great introduction to the absolute BESTEST DADA professor JK Rowling ever created… DELORES UMBRIDGE!

Nah, I'm kidding! Umbitch can rot in Hell!

No, I'd wanted to bring Remus Lupin into the story before Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Camille met him on the Hogwarts Express. So I hope this flows well.

Also, this chapter is supposed to flow directly from the end of the previous one, so I did back up just a little bit at the start of this chapter.

Oh, and another shout-out on the technical side—Sagitarscorpion1, who has been helping me write some of the medical information regarding Harry's trach tube. Woo-hoo! Thank you!

* * *

Chapter 6

"James, I'd be worried if you _didn't_ have a meltdown about this," Sirius said, not sure how to buck his best friend up. "There's a lot going on with Harry right now. And it's scary as all Hell. But you're not alone. Lily's had her moments and so have the Dursleys."

After a few moments, James nodded, understanding that he needed to stop holding back how he was feeling about everything. "You're right."

Sirius smirked and shrugged. "It's been known to happen."

"True… But not very often."

Both men turned and stood agape at the new arrival, both crying out at the same time, "Moony!"

Remus Lupin had barely a moment to brace himself before his two best friends launched themselves at him, pulling him into a three-way hug.

James was the first to pull back, staring in happy disbelief at Remus. "H-How did you know we were here?"

Lupin shook his head. "I didn't know Sirius was here. I went to Privet Drive because Dumbledore told me about you and Lily. Lily said that Harry was here for some sort of treatment. When I asked one of the nurses at the outpatient clinic, she said that she saw you head towards the restrooms after Harry was taken to Emergency."

Seeing the stricken look on James's face as he no doubt was thinking about why he was in the men's room in the first place, Sirius cut in. "Prongs, why don't you go check on Harry then meet us in the cafeteria downstairs in about an hour? I'll catch Remus up on everything."

James nodded and left the room, finding Harry still asleep in the exam room. The teenager had been transferred from the gurney onto the exam bed and he seemed to be breathing just fine once again. Sitting next to his son, James noticed that Harry was still connected to his IV which was thankfully almost two thirds empty.

"Mr. Potter?"

An older woman wearing a doctor's coat with the name Delores Cauldwell on her badge came in, giving father and son a questioning look. "I wanted to see how Harry was doing."

"Uh…" James stammered for a second before shrugging. "Uh, H-Harry's… H-He's—He's fine. We're… We're good, I think. Maybe."

Pulling a stool over and sitting on Harry's other side, Dr. Cauldwell studied the young man. "How long has Harry been sick?"

James rubbed his face with both hands and somehow managed to get through the whole story—with a few details pertaining to the wizarding world omitted—without a second meltdown. "I really don't know what I'm going to do if Harry has to keep the trach tube. It's like every time he and I try to connect, I end up sending him into a fit of breathing problems."

"When did Harry's regular doctors say he can have the tube removed?" Cauldwell wanted to know. James had given her the highlights, but now she was interested in the personal details.

"Uh… Friday, I believe," James replied, trying to think. "The… The trach tube, anyway. The NG tube might have to stay put longer."

Standing and gently probing Harry's neck for a second, Cauldwell nodded as she felt the minor swelling in Harry's throat. "When Harry wakes up, come find me. I'll do a thorough exam before you guys leave." When James showed no sign of leaving his son's side, she gave him a smile. "Go get some air. I'll make sure Harry's alright."

x

Downstairs in the brightly lit cafeteria, James found his two best friends sitting at a table far away from anyone else. Sitting down, Sirius pushed a tray of food towards him and he ate quickly.

"James, what you've been going through… I can't even imagine," Remus said, sadly.

James took the bottled juice on the tray and finished it off in one go. "There's no way I could have ever imagined that this… I thought I'd be reunited with Lily and Harry and we'd go find our own place and everything would be alright." Tossing the empty bottle into the trash can nearby, he sighed deeply. "Maybe it was a mistake to—"

"'A mistake'?!" Sirius interrupted, eyes wide in horrified shock. "Just because your son is sick you think you were better off _not_ coming back? Leaving Lily to face this on her own—"

Remus put a calming hand on Sirius's shoulder, waiting until the hot-headed man had calmed down before turning to James. "A mistake to… what?" Remus asked, encouraging James to finish his original thought.

"To bring Harry home from the hospital," James finished. But under Sirius's firm stare, he looked away, feeling somewhat ashamed of admitting how he felt. "But… you're not wrong, Padfoot. A few times, I have wished that I didn't know about Harry's illness." Looking up again with his eyes glistening with unshed tears, he added, "And I hate myself for feeling that way. Harry's my son. I should be able to help him through all this. I should be able to be his rock."

Leaning back in his chair, Remus thought about when the lot of them were kids at Hogwarts. "Some of my best memories of school were just the four of us hanging out. That's all. Just knowing that I had friends who cared about me was more than I ever needed." Giving James a pointed look, he said, "That's all Harry really needs. He has you back, and Lily, and Sirius… And you don't have to shoulder this burden alone, James. According to Sirius, Harry has the Dursleys to lean on as well. You don't have to do it all alone, you know."

xxxx

Opening his eyes some time later, Harry blinked as he looked about. He quickly recognized his location as a hospital exam room and as he slowly sat up, he realized that the neck brace was missing.

The last thing he remembered was hugging his father in the outpatient clinic. He'd started crying heavily and then he'd felt the flood of mucus down his throat, clogging the trach and NG tubes…

"Oh, good, you're awake," James said as he came into the room and turned on the lights followed by Sirius and another man Harry didn't recognize. Taking up his previous seat next to the bed and studying his son carefully, he asked, "How are you feeling?"

Harry shrugged lightly and he reached up a hand to touch his throat and the trach. **'I want to go home. I don't think I like hospitals anymore.'**

James let out a soft laugh, nodding as he patted his son's knee. "I never cared for them myself, either. But you need to get checked out before we leave, kiddo."

Once James had left to find Dr. Cauldwell, Sirius introduced Remus Lupin. "He's your dad's other best friend. We've all known each other since we went to Hogwarts."

Presuming that Remus didn't know sign language, Harry kept his gestures slow as he mouthed, 'It's nice to meet you.'

Remus held out a hand, shaking Harry's before replying, "It's nice to see you again, too, Harry."

The exam room door opened again and James reentered followed by Cauldwell who quickly donned a pair of examination gloves. "Harry, I'm Dr. Cauldwell. I'm just going to check you out before I let you go home, okay?"

Harry looked over at his father, signing that he understood before lifting his head up slightly to make things easier for the doctor. First, Cauldwell carefully probed his neck before checking the tubes and their placement before instructing Harry to open his mouth as wide as possible.

"I'm going to use a spray and numb your throat, Harry," Cauldwell advised before bringing out a laryngoscope. "And then I'm going to take a better look at the inside of your throat." The spray made Harry cough for a moment but Cauldwell carefully used her thumb to cover the end of the trach tube so Harry could try breathing through his nose and mouth. "Okay?" she asked when Harry's coughing fit passed.

Harry gave her an affirmative gesture and opened his mouth, trying to quell his fear as the doctor started feeding the end of the scope down his throat.

"Just look at me, Harry, alright?" James said, taking his son's hand and squeezing it.

Harry squeezed back to indicate he understood and after what felt like an hour, Cauldwell withdrew the scope, and Harry coughed again, covering the end of the trach tube as he'd seen the doctor do moments before. Once he felt he could breathe again, he looked over at his father, indicating he was okay.

"Good news, Harry," Cauldwell said, cheerfully, as she removed her gloves. "Your throat looks to be healing just fine. There's still some swelling in your throat so I don't think it's safe to remove the trach tube just yet. And your incisions are holding but I'd still wear the neck brace for at least another day or two."

' **So I might be able to get the tubes out early? Or the trach tube, anyway?'** Harry asked, looking to James to interpret.

When James repeated the question, Cauldwell hesitated before explaining. "Before we can remove the trach we have to make sure Harry can breathe without it. Usually it's an outpatient procedure, but in Harry's case I would recommend a 36-hour admittance so his breathing can be closely monitored."

"What kind of procedure are we talking about? Not more surgery?" James wondered aloud, feeling his stomach clench.

"First Harry's tube will be capped," Cauldwell explained, pointing to the trach. "That will keep him from breathing through it so he'll have to breathe through his nose and mouth. After 24 hours, if Harry's breathing and oxygenation levels are normal, we'll remove the tube and bandage the stoma—that's the hole in his throat."

"How long will that take to heal?" Sirius wanted to know, looking from James to Harry.

"Average time is two to three weeks," Cauldwell replied, simply. "If the stoma hasn't closed after 3 weeks, we can stitch it up."

Not having heard an exact timeline, James again asked the question of when Harry's tube could be removed.

Cauldwell considered what she knew—both from her exam and what she'd read in Harry's medical case file—and finally replied, "Bring Harry back here tomorrow night. We'll get him admitted and cap the trach tube and we can monitor him all day on Wednesday. If everything goes well, Harry can have the tube out late Thursday afternoon."

Remus stepped forward, shaking the doctor's hand. "Thank you, Doctor. We'll see you tomorrow."

As the quartet left the hospital, James looked at his watch, cringing slightly as he noticed that it was almost 3 in the afternoon and he'd promised to get Harry back to Privet Drive well before dinnertime.

"What's wrong?" Sirius inquired, looking at his best friend's dejected look.

James shrugged as he looked at his watch again. "I was hoping to do some shopping with Harry before we had to be back at the Dursleys'."

' **Shopping?'** Harry said, looking a bit puzzled.

"Some new clothes, maybe take a peek at the house your mum and I are looking to buy. Definitely a car," James explained. "It's been nice of your aunt and uncle to host us, but Lily and I really do want to find a new place to live."

"Hear, hear," Sirius agreed, thinking of his own living arrangements. "I've been looking at a two-bedroom flat about 15 minutes from here."

' **Well, why don't we go do that anyway?'** Harry argued, not really in the mood to go home and be fussed over. Holding up the bag he'd brought with him—at his aunts' and mother's insistence and containing supplies for his tubes—he added, **'I've got my things with me in case something happens and I could use a little change of scenery.'**

"I'm with Harry," Sirius chimed in quickly. "A boy's night out would do us all some good."

After a moment, James grinned and went to the hospital's pay phone to call Lily and tell her of the change in plans—omitting the story of Harry's earlier episode. After hanging up, he returned to the others, frowning a bit. "Lily said that it's not a good idea and that Harry really should be resting."

"So let's grab a wheelchair or something," Sirius countered, pointing to one of the said devices nearby. "Harry will be sitting down and 'resting' and we can still have a night on the town."

Looking at his son, James figured he'd let Harry cast the deciding vote. "What do you say, Harry? Are you up for this?"

Truth be told, Harry was a touch reluctant to be out in public where everyone could stare at the trach and NG tubes. On the other hand, he'd been going crazy cooped up at home and he really wanted to go out and do something fun. And even though he didn't like the whole wheelchair thing, if it would keep the rest of his family from going berserk when they found out, then so be it. **'I'm in,'** he said, resolutely.

Once Sirius had nabbed the wheelchair and Harry was seated, the group headed down the street.

* * *

At Number 4 Privet Drive, everyone was in a fit of anxiety as they waited for James, Sirius, Remus, and Harry to return.

Looking at the clock on the mantle, Lily huffed crossly as she noted that it was nearly 11 at night. Where could they be?

"You don't think something happened… do you?" Camille asked as she looked at the adults.

"Well, I can't speak for the rest of you," Marge snapped, brusquely. "—but if something happened to Harry and _none of them_ bothered to tell us, then James and his friends will _also_ be needing a hospital."

"Agreed," Lily replied at once.

"It was also irresponsible of James and Sirius to take Harry out for the day when he's still recovering from surgery," Petunia threw in, also incredibly furious. Turning to her husband, she said, "Back me up on this, Vernon."

But Vernon Dursley only shifted uncomfortably in his chair before finally speaking. "Granted it's late and we should have heard something by now. But Harry is stronger and tougher than the rest of you give him credit for." He turned to Lily and gave her a firm glance. "Your friend Remus Lupin seems like a very sensible sort. So I doubt the lot of them have gotten into trouble. And James and Sirius care about Harry so I'm sure that they would have made sure he was safe."

Before anyone could respond to that, the front door opened and James, Sirius, Harry, and Remus came in. "Sorry we were so late, Lily. We went to go see a movie after our shopping."

' **Dad and Sirius got tied up at the car dealership,'** Harry explained, his expression and signing animated. **'And Dad showed me the house on Pinkney Avenue the two of you were looking at. I told him I think it's perfect. The third floor is like one huge suite, complete with this huge bathroom. It's perfect for me.'**

But Lily was having none of it and exploded with rage as she stormed over to her husband. "You've been gallivanting about town while the rest of us have been _out of our minds_ with worry about Harry! I cannot believe you would blow off everything I said!"

Not wanting Harry or Camille to get caught in the crossfire, Vernon quickly herded both of them upstairs and waited until Harry was dressed for bed before giving him his nighttime injection. **'I'm sorry about tonight, Uncle Vernon,'** Harry signed, looking dejected. **'We were just having so much fun and then we lost track of time.'**

"I know, Harry," Vernon replied, soothingly. "But surely you can understand your mother's reaction. She didn't know what had happened to you. I expect it brought back some rather unpleasant memories of when she woke up after Voldemort's attack."

' **I guess I hadn't thought about it like that,'** Harry mused. Feeling incredibly tired, he removed his glasses and got into bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

As Vernon left the room after saying 'good night', Camille entered the room dressed in her favorite pajamas and climbed the ladder up to her bunk after making sure that Lockhart was curled up on Harry's chest.

After listening to her cousin's steady breathing for while, Camille also closed her eyes and soon drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The next morning, both teenagers were woken by Lily who swiftly apologized for the previous night.

"I wanted to say that I'm sorry for the scene I made last night," she said, sitting down at the desk after Camille and Harry were sitting up and Camille had her hearing aids in. "When I woke up after Voldemort's attack, I didn't remember anything about who I was or… All I knew was that I had a husband and son and that they were gone. Harry, I had no idea where you were or if you were alright… And finding out about your health issues hasn't been easy either. I keep thinking that something is going to happen and you're going to be taken away from me again."

' **I know how scary this all is—'** Harry started but his mother interrupted.

"Sweetie… Until you're a parent, you'll never really understand how utterly terrifying it is to hear that your child is critically ill and might… and might actually die." Lily took a deep breath, trying not to cry in front of her son. "Hearing that doctor say that the tumors in your throat would eventually become _cancer_ … Harry, there's almost nothing in the world worse than that news."

Thinking about his breathing episode the previous day, Harry quickly quelled the thought of telling his mother. She was incredibly distraught about the simple matter of him not being home on time the previous night, and any news about another episode involving the trach tube would likely result in him locked in his bedroom or something.

Deciding instead to stick with the good news of the previous day, Harry talked about Dr. Cauldwell's assessment regarding the trach tube.

Lily gave a dry laugh, nodding as she did so. "Once Remus managed to calm me down enough so I wouldn't throttle James with my bare hands, I heard about that." Fixing her son with a stern look, she added, "I also found out _why_ you had an examination by another doctor. Want to tell me about it?"

'Oh,' Harry mouthed, looking rueful. **'I was sort of hoping Dad might have… skipped that part.'** Seeing that his mother wasn't going to drop the subject, he went on. **'I was crying… and I got too worked up. The trach started to get blocked with mucus. I tried to breathe through my nose but my nose was clogged and then the stupid NG tube was… Then some of the nurses took me to Emergency and suctioned everything out and gave me a sedative so I could rest for a bit.'**

Lily sat in silence for a while, trying not to wrap her son in a hug and promise to never let him out of her sight ever, ever again… After a few deep breaths to steady herself, she said, "Harry, even if you think you're doing the right thing—or even if your father tells you not to tell me—I want you to _always_ tell me when you've had an episode. I know you want to protect me because you think I'll worry and I'll be upset," she went on, seeing Harry about to interrupt. "But if you hold that kind of thing back, it'll make me feel worse. Understand?"

Since he hadn't yet put the neck brace back on, Harry nodded slowly, trying to hold in his emotions because as much as he wanted to just burst into a full crying fit, he didn't want to run the risk of the trach getting clogged again. Needing a distraction and an excuse to leave the room, Harry remembered he had to take one of his pills before breakfast and he quickly excused himself to go to the bathroom.

Once Harry was down the hall, Camille got her aunt's attention and signed, **'Once Harry has those tubes out, I think we** _ **all**_ **need to have a big group cry.'**

Lily laughed as she watched her niece climb down from the top bunk and get dressed. "An excellent idea, honey."

x

After breakfast, Camille said she wanted to go hang out on the playground a few blocks over. When Harry and Sirius offered to join her, she refused quickly and left the house before anyone could stop her.

Breaking into a run when she got to the end of Privet Drive, she didn't stop until she reached the swings. Sitting down, Camille began lightly swinging back and forth, sobbing hard. She couldn't remember the last time she'd cried so hard and it felt like everything she'd been holding back for the past 4 weeks was all pouring out of her.

Swinging with more force, Camille let out a wail of anguish, not even caring as she heard a loud crack of thunder nearby.

Swing. Sob. Swing. Sob.

Scream.

Swing. Sob. Swing. Sob.

When it felt like there was nothing left in her to expel, Camille stopped swinging, slowly coming to a stop as the rain started coming down hard.

Taking out her hearing aids so they didn't get wet and shoving them in her pocket, Camille continued to sit on the swing, feeling the rain soak her to the skin.

She jumped up, however, when someone put a hand on her shoulder. Whirling around, she saw Remus Lupin standing there, holding an umbrella. The older man said something, but without her hearing aids in, she hadn't the slightest idea what. Still, she let him lead her back home, holding the umbrella over her to keep her from getting more drenched than she already was.

As soon as she walked in the door, Camille was wrapped up in the largest towel her mother had and was immediately sent upstairs to change clothes and get back into bed to warm up.

"I'll send Lily upstairs with some hot soup and a mug of that apple berry tea you like," Petunia said, sternly.

Even though she didn't feel that cold at the moment, Camille did as instructed and once she was settled into Harry's bunk—she wasn't in the mood to climb up to her own—she felt Lockhart climb up on her shoulder and snuggle against her neck.

A short while later, the bedroom door opened and Remus came in carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of tomato soup, a toasted cheese sandwich, and a mug of Camille's favorite tea—Cranberry Apple Zinger steeped in apple juice. "Feeling better?" Remus asked as he handed the young woman the tray.

"Uh… I think my hearing aids are still in the pants pocket," Camille said, pointing to the wet clothes tossed over the chair in the corner of the room. Once Remus had retrieved the devices and Camille had put them in, she asked, "What did you say?"

"I asked if you were feeling better," Remus repeated as Camille ate. When the young woman didn't respond, he sat down at the desk, a sorrowful look on his face. "Many people think that when a family member is dealing with a serious illness, only the sick person suffers. That's not true. Everyone deals with it in their own way. They deal with the pain and the worry…"

"I'm glad I'm not in school," Camille said, suddenly, sipping her tea. "I don't want to hear how this isn't as bad as it could be, or we'll all be stronger for going through all this. I don't want to hear it!"

Remus's smile was sad as he nodded, thinking of his own life and struggles. "Sometimes suffering… is just suffering. It doesn't make you stronger or build character… It just hurts. It's like…" Thinking about what he was, he went on. "Sometimes suffering is like a raging, mindless beast. It attacks rips you apart… leaves you scarred…. And then moves onto the next helpless victim."

"You're talking from experience, I take it?" Camille asked, raising an eyebrow as she studied Remus.

"That's a story for another time," he dodged, not wanting to get into it at the moment. "But I'm going to be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts this year, so if you and Harry want to talk, I'll be happy to listen."

Leaving Camille to finish her lunch in peace, Remus went back downstairs, taking Camille's wet clothes with him and putting them in the laundry hamper near the basement door.

In the living room, Harry was enjoying a bag of nutritional formula—which was hanging from a nearby coat rack—while talking with his parents, the Dursleys, and Sirius about making a trip to Diagon Alley for his and Camille's Hogwarts supplies for the coming year.

"Sirius and I can go pick everything up while Harry's in hospital," James offered, looking at Lily.

' **Dad's afraid he's going to trigger another episode if he's alone with me,'** Harry explained to Remus while Petunia translated. **'Mum thinks he's being paranoid.'**

"Harry, you're really close to getting the trach tube out," James pointed out. "I don't want to jeopardize that for you."

"Lily and Remus can go to Diagon Alley," Sirius said, decisively. "James, you and I will stay with Harry." When James started to argue again, Sirius held up a hand to stop him. "If things start getting too emotional, I'll start sharing tales of our exploits at Hogwarts. Unless, of course, laughing too hard is dangerous as well."

When everyone looked at Harry, he gave a slight shrug. **'I don't think so.'**

Changing the subject, Petunia turned to Marge who making a grocery list for after Harry got the trach tube out. "Marge, you're staying for Harry's birthday, correct?"

Marge nodded. "I'll be taking the train back home on August 3rd." Turning to Dudley, who had just come out of the kitchen after washing the dishes, she asked, "And will you be coming with me, young man?"

Dudley felt like he was being put on the spot, feeling like the question was some sort of test he'd never studied for. Looking at his parents, he asked, "Do you still want me to go? Or do you want me to stay and help with Harry, or…?" When no one replied, he went on. "I was angry and jealous of all the attention Harry and Camille got because they're wizards and because of their disabilities. But that was really unfair." Turning to Harry, he said, "You shouldn't have to deal with all this. I've been a real prat to you and Camille. And I'd like it if you can help me learn sign language."

Harry thought about his cousin's words and—more importantly—if he believed them. Looking at Petunia, he signed his response, having a brief and silent conversation before Dudley turned to his mother for her verdict.

"Harry said that he's going to be helping another boy with relearning sign language," Petunia explained. "You can go with Harry and work with them."

"That sounds great," Dudley replied, nodding. When Harry signed words, Dudley repeated the signs.

* * *

While everyone else enjoyed dinner, James, Petunia, and Lily took Harry to the Raines Medical Center, taking him upstairs for admittance.

In a small, private room that was smaller than the last hospital room he was in, Harry got settled in bed, trying to keep his breathing even so as not to betray how nervous he felt.

Dr. Cauldwell came in, frowning slightly at how crowded the room was, and turned to the adults. "Since space is a little tight right now, could I ask that only one of you stay with Harry at a time?"

"I'll stay," James said, immediately. When Petunia and Lily looked at him—no doubt thinking of his earlier hesitation at being alone with Harry—he nodded, reassuringly. "We'll be fine."

The two sisters stepped out of the room, closing the door behind them. Standing before the glass window, they watched Dr. Cauldwell put a SAT monitor on Harry's finger before capping the trach tube. After nearly an hour of testing Harry's respiratory responses as well as breathing rates, Cauldwell straightened up, an encouraging look on her face as she spoke briefly with James before leaving the room.

"Right now, Harry is breathing just fine with the trach tube covered," Cauldwell explained. "We'll be monitoring him all night with the SAT monitor, and I'm going to have a nurse run through all the respiratory tests again around 11 o'clock tonight. If you could make sure Harry stays calm, that will be helpful."

"And if Harry's breathing is okay all through the night?" Lily wanted to know.

Cauldwell looked slightly apprehensive at the 'all night' part but she explained the situation carefully. "Right now, Harry can breathe through his mouth and left nostril. But that's easier right now because he's _aware_ of how he's breathing. When he's asleep, he might not be able to breathe properly because the airway he's been used to—the trach tube—isn't available. You'll have to keep very close watch on Harry's breathing and if it looks like he isn't getting enough oxygen, wake him up. If there are still problems, another doctor or nurse can uncover the tube." Seeing that Harry's aunt and mother understood, she added, "Some patients have no problems whatsoever with a trach tube removal. Others don't do so well. So let's see how Harry does tonight and tomorrow and if he does well enough, we'll remove the trach Thursday afternoon."

"Thank you, Doctor," Lily said as she went back into Harry's room along with Petunia.

"How are you feeling, Harry?" Petunia asked as she sat on the edge of the bed.

' **Alright,'** Harry replied, taking a deep breath. **'It feels weird, though—not breathing through the tube.'**

Patting her nephew's knee, Petunia gave the boy a warm smile. "Hopefully in a couple days, that won't be an issue anymore."

Sitting in the chair by the window, James relayed the post removal procedure. "Once the trach is removed, Harry will have the hole bandaged. He'll have to apply slight pressure to the bandage when coughing or… or trying to talk."

Petunia straightened up, looking from James to Harry with a tentatively optimistic look. "So Dr. Cauldwell thinks you'll be able to speak again after the tube is removed?"

' **Not very loudly,'** Harry replied. **'But yeah. I'll have to work on speech therapy, though, I'm sure.'**

Shifting topics, Petunia asked, "Did you want to invite your friends to your birthday party in two weeks?"

"Actually, Petunia," Lily cut in. "I was wondering if it was okay if James and I host Harry's birthday? The house we're looking at is much bigger and it would fit everyone more comfortably. If that's alright, of course."

Seeing that Petunia was a bit offended by her sister's request—no doubt she felt like her family's financial status was being rubbed in her face—James interjected, attempting to smooth things over. "Petunia, you've done so much for Lily and I since we've been back. You've let us stay in your house—along with Sirius and Remus and Marge. But we should be helping out as well. The house we're looking at is set for immediate occupation and that will free some room in your home. I'm sure you've been feeling a little crowded, yeah?"

It was something that had stung a bit when Petunia had first met James Potter—the fact that his family was very wealthy.

As children, Lily and Petunia hadn't exactly been poor, but they hadn't been well off, either. They'd both been raised to never spend more than necessary, and to save money as much as possible. And while Petunia had taken those lessons to heart when she'd married Vernon and had two children, Lily had married someone with money and hadn't seemed too worried about financial matters.

Still, Petunia realized, her sister and brother-in-law had very valid points. The house was a bit too cramped lately with 10 people trying to share space. And, once again, she remembered that—as much as she loved Harry—he wasn't her biological child. This would be the first real step in letting go and Petunia wasn't quite sure she was ready for that.

* * *

In Privet Drive, Dudley tentatively knocked on the doorframe of the bedroom his sister and Harry shared. When Camille looked up, giving him a slight glare, he slowly signed, speaking aloud as he did so. "Dad wanted to know if you were okay."

Camille nodded, setting aside the book she'd been reading and turning to face Dudley, crossing her legs as she did so. "I'm okay. I didn't mean to freak everyone out earlier today. I just… had some things I needed to get out of my system." Seeing her brother's nervous expression, she chuckled and pointed to the desk chair. "Sit down, Dudley. It's okay."

As Dudley sat down, he saw Lockhart eying him from the upper bunk. Turning to his sister, he said, "I'm sorry about being an arse to you for so long. I don't have any excuse. What I did was wrong and I know it'll likely be a while before you forgive me."

After the siblings had sat in silence for a while, Camille finally spoke up. "I hated you for how mean you were to me and Harry, sure… but also because I was jealous of you. You were the oldest… and you could hear." After a moment, she went on. "Dudley, I know you got a really harsh look at what Harry and I deal with this summer and we both appreciate that you're actually trying to be better. But I've told myself that you can change before."

At first Dudley couldn't think of anything to say. After all he'd done to… But no—Camille was right. A mere week wasn't anywhere _near_ enough time to show that he could be a better person. And he imagined that his parents feel very much the same way. "I _am_ trying, Camille," Dudley assured his sister. "I want you to know that. I want to be better than I used to be."

"Great," Camille replied, trying not to sound derisive. "But as I said—we've all thought that eventually you'd grow up and stop being a bully. So you can't really blame us for not rushing to the conclusion that you've changed. This isn't a sprint, Dudley," she pressed on when she saw her big brother's dejected look. "And things aren't going to get better when school starts again. You've got to prove yourself to your teachers and classmates as well. And even then, don't expect everyone to be cutting you any breaks."

Nodding thoughtfully, Dudley stood and left the room, closing the door behind him.

When the door closed, Lockhart made his way down to the lower bunk, curling up in Camille's lap and purring in a comforting manner.

"Do you reckon I was too hard on him?" Camille asked the black and white kitten as she scooped him up in her arms. When Lockhart let out a mournful 'meow', Camille sniffed as tears welled up in her eyes. "Yeah… me, too."

Laying back down, snuggling the kitten, Camille closed her eyes and fell asleep.

* * *

A/N: Two quick things. What Remus Lupin says to Camille about suffering-I actually got that from a bit of 'Criminal Minds' related fanart. But I thought it worked well in this context.

Also, Camille's preferred tea is actually based on a drink that I really like. I'm not a tea person and the Lipton Green Tea with citrus _barely_ qualifies. But I am occasionally partial to a bag of Cranberry Apple Zinger steeped in apple juice. It's really yummy and no added sugar needed.


End file.
